


Book Two: Don't Mention The Apocalypse; Bro, You Smell Like Hormones

by EdgarAllenPoet



Series: wolf!verse [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, Yellowcard (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Fairies, Gen, Homophobia, I don't even know how to tag this, I'm so sorry, Multi, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural - Freeform, Teens, Werewolves, gay shit, god damn it, i wrote it like over a year ago, mentions of child abuse, okay um, probably other stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 02:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 94,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8515387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgarAllenPoet/pseuds/EdgarAllenPoet
Summary: Brendon makes a friend and maybe starts stalking a sad-looking kid at his school. Spencer is not jealous, really, he has no reason to be. Besides, he's too busy trying not to turn into a monster. If Jon could get rid of this stupid crush, that'd be pretty convenient. A new kid moves into the apartment and learns the truth about the stuff he's been running from. Zack may be falling in love, not just with a girl, but with these weird little kids who've turned into a family.





	1. Part 1 (chapters 1-6)

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO this accidentally got deleted, and now it's back. As we all know, though, I'm pretty lazy, and reposting it chapter by chapter was too much fucking work, so here we are. Two lumps of a book- unfortunately the l o n g e s t book. 
> 
> Sorry bout that. Anyways, here it is. Thank you everyone for reading it, and expect updates soon-ish.

**Chapter 1**

 

 

“Alright, you know what you’re going to do today?” Spencer had stopped Brendon at the door to the building right before they said their goodbyes to head off to school- Spencer would be going left, to the bus stop and then to the local community college. Brendon would be going right and walking several blocks to the high school. He’d walked to the high school every day for the past month and a half, so he wasn’t going to get lost (the way he did on his first day…. and his second and third…).

"Spencer, oh my God,” he groaned, trying to pull away, but Spencer was relentless.

“You’re going to say hi to someone, and you’re going to make a friend, right?”

Brendon rolled his eyes hard. “Yes, mother, sure. Make a friend. Got it.”

“Brendon.”

“Okay, okay!” Brendon ducked out of Spencer’s grasp and took off down the crumbly sidewalk. He turned to stick his tongue out at Spencer, who was standing there shaking his head, and then pulled his hood up and stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets. School. Yippee. Brendon had been a sophomore for a month and a half, and really, it was just freshman year all over again, but worse, somehow. The year before, he’d gone to school on the other side of town (where all of his older siblings and cousins had gone before him). There blending-in was the easiest thing in the world, even though he was a Mormon freak with lame clothes and stupid glasses and a big mouth. He had a few friends and his cousins, and they were all basically under the radar. It didn’t matter how weird he was.

At his new school he didn’t have any a squad of geeky acquaintances or big scary relatives to protect him. It was just him-- just Brendon and his weirdness.

He hadn’t told Spencer that he didn’t have any friends; Spencer had just kind of… figured it out. It wasn’t that he wasn’t trying, it just… He was the new kid, and the school was small enough that everyone knew he hadn't gone to junior high there with the rest of them and kept their distance. Making friends was harder than he’d thought it would be, but then again, the only real friend (the geeks from his class hung out with him because he didn't really give them any other choice, not because they wanted to) he’d ever actually made before was Spencer, and then Jon, by default.

“Come on, get to class!” the biology/chemistry/anatomy teacher had an impressively loud voice, and Brendon almost went deaf when the woman shouted right in his ear. It was an accident, at least, he was pretty sure it was. “No, honey, you’re going the wrong way. Freshman classes are that way,” she said, catching him by the arm. Brendon sighed.

“I’m a sophomore, actually, so,” he said, always awkward and fidgeting with the strap on his bag. The teacher looked him over and pursed her lips. He was seriously waiting for his growth spurt, or like, puberty or whatever. That would be nice.

“Oh. Alright, get to class,”

Brendon ran off, hearing the shout of ‘no running in the halls!’ follow him.

His first class was Spanish 2, held in a too-bright classroom that was covered in generic school decorations. A bright sign by the door read “BIENVENDIDOS” and inside the room, the entire place was covered in cartoon chile peppers with smiley faces on them. They were creepy (not creepy like the organisms floating in jars in the science room, which were both interesting and terrifying and reeked of formaldehyde, but creepy like slowed children’s music in horror movies or evil circus clowns or puppets). To make matters worse, the Spanish teacher believed in sanitation, and she washed the desktops nightly with clorox wipes. Werewolf senses equal death, and Brendon would rather smell anything else- even formaldehyde.

Whatever. He had to spend the next forty-five minutes in there anyways, so he might as well make the best of it. Brendon took a steadying breath before walking into the room and over to his table, which he shared with some unfriendly junior named Kyle. He remembered what Spencer told him and thought ‘why the hell not?’

“Hello!” He chirped as he set his orange binder down and sat at his table. Someone had drawn a penis on it when he hadn’t been paying attention, and Brendon had scribbled it out as best as he could with sharpie. If he had to guess who’d done it, he’d probably guess Kyle. He seemed like the kind of guy to get off on poorly drawn genitalia. Clorox floated up from the desk and clogged up his nose. There was a little name tag that read ‘don Brendon~’ sitting at his desk. “What’s up, man?”

Kyle turned and looked Brendon over, an amused expression on his face with a raised eyebrow. He chuckled and shook his head before standing up and walking away.

And that seemed to happen every time Brendon tried. It was slightly disheartening.

“Alright, alright, everybody please settle down. Silenciosa, ninos, por favor,”

Everyone in the room kept chattering, but seeing as Brendon had no one to chatter with, he just slouched in his chair and let his leg bounce up and down. Up down up down up down, while the teacher’s expression grew more and more distressed with each chatter-filled moment. Brendon spaced off while staring at the penis shaped scribble on his binder.

“Today!” senorita decided to just talk over everybody. Brendon could feel himself getting a headache. “We’re going to be moving seats, so everybody please pick up your books and stand up,”

Half the room groaned in protest and half the room cheered. Brendon actually smiled, bouncing a bit as he stood up and gathered his books back together. It was probably rude to look so happy, but Kyle didn’t like him anyways, so what did it matter? He stood near the back of the room, bouncing and waiting and ignoring the looks he was getting from a group of mean-looking girls a few feet away. They were just jealous, or something… That’s what Brendon’s mom used to say.

“...Brendon, Michael, Carlos, Allison...” Brendon perked up and headed over to where senorita had pointed and set his books down. There was a girl sitting at the table already, a pretty girl, messing with her pens and writing something on her hand. When Brendon sat down, she glanced up, and then she smiled.

Here goes nothing, Brendon smiled back. “Hey,” He stuck his hand out, realized that was an incredibly dumb thing to do, normal kids didn’t shake hands with other kids, almost pulled it back, but then left it out there so he wouldn’t look any stupider. “I’m Brendon,”

The girl, at least, looked amused, and not in a mean way. She shook his hand. “I’m Sarah,”

 

 

...  
Things were looking up, actually. Because Sarah was nice, and it wasn’t in an uneasy way which meant she was just being nice because she thought he was weird or because she felt sorry for him. It was a genuine nice that suggested maybe, just maybe they could be friends. That would be pretty cool.

If nothing else, it was a significant improvement from sitting next to Kyle, who never actually said a word to Brendon (only raised his eyebrows occasionally and rolled his eyes a lot and probably drawn a penis on his binder). Brendon practically floated out of Spanish class.

The rest of the day went fine, absolutely fine until the passing period before his last class. He was outside, headed across the quad (it was an outside courtyard between the two buildings, with a few beaten up picnic tables and what used to be a fountain until some seniors apparently filled it with jello for their senior prank) to the athletic’s building for health class, when someone shoved him.

“Move it, fucktard!”

Brendon, being the way that he is, tripped over an uneven piece of concrete and went down, skinning his elbow in the process and making an incredibly stupid squawking noise that he really wasn’t proud of.

“What a pussy!” the guy who had shoved him laughed and kept going. Brendon frowned and waited for the guy to walk past him before picking himself up, dusting off his pants, and straightening his wire-rimmed glasses. He took a moment to look over his busted elbow and frowned. It stung, but it’d be fine probably before class was over. Speaking of which- the bell rang and Brendon groaned. Late. Across the quad , he saw a boy staring at him, and his first thought was ‘oh, he’s cute.’ Then he blushed and considered throwing himself back on the ground and dying.

Instead (that’s not practical anyways. what is he even thinking?) he smiled wide and waved at the kid. The kid was dressed in all black clothing and even wearing eyeliner, which was pretty cool and Brendon was just a little jealous. His hair was hanging in his eyes like it was supposed to be doing that. It fell perfectly over one eye, which Brendon thought was the coolest thing ever, considering his fell over both eyes and just looked stupid because it was too long. This kid had a whole lot more going for him, in the looks department.

But considering the clothes and the deep frown on the kid’s face, Brendon shouldn’t have been surprised when the kid flipped him off and walked away. The kid was wearing black nail polish, and Brendon was too impressed by that to even care how mean the kid was. He floated happily off to class and didn’t even care when he got yelled at for being late.

 

 

…  
“Someone came in today, and ordered a tall coffee, and then they were mad at me because they thought tall was the largest size,” Jon rolled his eyes and viciously stabbed at his meatloaf. “I mean, honest mistake, whatever. But she was demanding that I give her the venti coffee for the same price as the tall one, and like, excuse me, that’s not how it works,” he sighed and dropped his head on the table next to his plate.

“There there,” Zack patted him on the back of the head. “How was everyone else’s day, then?”

“I don’t understand why I need to take basic college arithmetic. I learned all of this in fifth grade. I could sleep through the class and guess on half the test and I’d still pass,” Spencer said, then glanced at Brendon. “I’ll pay you to do my math homework for me,”

Brendon considered. “I’ll trade you Algebra 2 for college math,”

Spencer nodded slowly before shaking Brendon’s hand. “Deal,”

“How is he supposed to pass the tests if you’re doing his homework?” Zack asked, breaking up their handshake. “No deal,” They both groaned in protest.

“How was school today, B?” Jon asked, having gotten over his mood about customers and gone back to peacefully eating his meatloaf. It wasn’t the meatloaf’s fault that Starbucks customers suck.

Brendon shrugged and poked at his green beans, which he tried to get out of eating every single time Zack served them for dinner. He never succeeded. It was kind of funny. “I made a friend today,” he said.

Spencer made a sound like he was choking on his meatloaf. “You did!?”

Brendon narrowed his eyes. “Yes…”

“Awesome!”

Jon raised an eyebrow and glanced between them. Weirdos. Spencer was kind of adorable when he was excited, though, so Jon could live with it.

“Who’s your friend, B?” he asked.

Brendon tried to nonchalantly push his plate away from him, and Zack casually nudged it back, because there were still green beans on it. It was a never ending war.

“Her name is Sarah and she’s in my Spanish class,” Brendon said proudly, grinning and trying to push the beans away again.

“What’s Sarah like?” Spencer asked before shoving potatoes in his mouth.

“She’s nice,” Brendon responded. “And pretty,” The kid may or may not have fluttered his eyelashes, but Spencer snorted a laugh, so there had probably been fluttering.

“Yeah?” Zack asked, grinning. “What’d you guys talk about?”

Brendon shrugged. “She just said hi, and said her name was Sarah, after I said hi and said my name was Brendon and that’s it, but we’re totally going to be friends,” Spencer looked at Jon and raised an eyebrow, and Jon just shrugged. “There was also this kid with really cool hair and black clothes and he flipped me off, but he was really cool so it’s okay,”

Jon made another face at Spencer, who rolled his eyes and then ruffled Brendon’s hair. “I’m glad you’re making friends, B. Proud of you.” ‘Friends’ Jon thought, ‘right.’ The only thing was that Brendon should probably have more than one conversation with a person before considering them a friend, but… hey. He was trying.

Later, when Zack wasn’t paying attention, Jon reached over and snagged the green beans off of Brendon’s plate. Brendon smiled and mouthed ‘thank you,’ and Jon winked. Spencer frowned at them both like he was disapproving, but he didn’t say anything, and Jon just winked at him too. Spencer may or may not have looked slightly flustered after that. Maybe Jon was imagining it.

 

…  
“Hey, welcome to Starbucks, what can I get you?” Jon said, quickly taking apart his cup pyramid and stacking the cups back they way they were supposed to be. He swore to God, in any other city Starbucks was the most popular place, but where he lived it was practically empty. There was the before work morning crowd, a tiny lunch crowd, and usually some after school high school kids that would wander in. There would be random college kids and elderly people popping in throughout the day, but compared to the shop a few blocks from his parent’s apartment in Chicago, this Starbucks was a ghost town.

It just about drove Jon crazy sometimes.

“Hmmm,” there was an attractive young man leaning against the counter and looking Jon in the eyes, smiling. Jon couldn’t help himself from smiling back. “What would you suggest?”

Jon grinned and looked up at the menu. “Well, I like mochas. And don’t tell my friends, but I’m totally into the pumpkin spice lattes,”

The guy gave Jon a smile that made him feel like they were in on some kind of joke together. “I thought they only served that in the fall?”

Jon smirked, “Well, technically yes, but I have all the ingredients. So if you’d like...,”

“Oh my God, you are the best!” the guy said, smiling wide. “Could I please get a grande pumpkin spice latte?”

“Of course,” Jon picked out a cup. “What’s your name?”

“James,” the guy said, smirking, or at least, Jon was pretty sure he was smirking. Jon would be a bit embarrassed if James wasn’t flirting the way he thought he was, but when James slid his money across the counter with a small slip of paper mixed in, that had a phone number written on it, Jon knew he hadn’t made a mistake. He quickly scribbled his number down on the cup with a smiley face next to it before making the drink.

When he handed the finished drink across the counter to James, he half hoped that James wouldn’t see his number, wouldn’t know what Jon had done and that the two could go on their separate ways. He was a bit nervous, after all. He hadn’t been on a date since high school. He thought he’d gotten lucky for a moment, when James took the drink and turned away. After a second though, he turned back to the counter and grinned.

“Would you.. would you maybe want to go out sometime?” James asked, leaning against the counter and grinning again. Jon couldn’t help but smile back and feel bashful. He glanced behind him, to see if his shift manager was paying attention, but she wasn’t.

“Yeah,” he said to James. “Yeah, I would like to go out sometime. My name is Jon, by the way,”

James smiled. “So Jon, how about I pick you up at your place around eight on Friday?”

Jon nodded. “That’d be great. I’ll text you the address,”

“Alright cutie,” James winked, then turned and walked out of the Starbucks. Jon watched him leave, and just like that, he had a date. He made sure to slip the piece of paper with a phone number into his jeans pocket so he wouldn’t lose it, and he ended up patting the his pocket for the rest of his shift to make sure it was still there.

 

…  
The extraordinary thing was that Sarah remembered Brendon’s name in Spanish class. The even more extraordinary thing was that she remembered it every day, which was the first time Brendon ever had a friend who talked to him every day in school that wasn’t a cousin or a church member. Things couldn’t get any more extraordinary, in his opinion, but then…

“Hey! Brendon!” Sarah called his name from across the cafeteria, and Brendon jumped. Nobody talked to him in the cafeteria. He’d tried sitting with the kids in his orchestra class once, but they’d spent all lunch side-eying the shit out of him and not laughing at his jokes, and let’s just say he wasn’t eager to repeat that.

“Dude, hey, where are you going?” She asked when he’d walked over. She was sitting next to another kid who looked too old to be a high schooler, beard and everything, and they both grinned up at him.

“Uhm,” Brendon was going to the library, actually, but he wasn’t sure how to tell her that without sounding lame.

“Sit by us!” She insisted, and well, if you insist…

Brendon sat down. The beard kid was still grinning at him, and Brendon took a moment to notice that he had pretty brown eyes.

“I never see you at lunch,” she said, dipping a tator tot in ketchup and then popping it in her mouth. Brendon watched her hands. “Where do you usually sit?”

“Uhm,” he didn’t like lying, but he also didn’t want her to think he was a loser. “With the orchestra kids,” he gestured with a nod of his head. “Sometimes…” It wasn’t technically a lie. Well, not really… Sarah nodded.

“That’s rad,”

“Uhm, yeah,” Brendon felt jittery, like he was going to fidget out of his skin, so he took a minute to try and pry open his milk carton. It wasn’t cooperating.

“Is this the Spanish kid?” the beard kid asked, eying Brendon up and down.

“Mhm,”

Suddenly the kid slammed both hands down on the table and shouted “Hola Senor!” with no trace of a Spanish accent whatsoever. Still, it was really loud.

Brendon flinched back hard enough that he managed to rip open his milk carton, but he also managed to accidentally throw it on his lap, soaking his entire shirt and lap in milk. He gaped down at himself while the kid sitting across from him tried really hard not to laugh. Brendon had to give him credit for the effort.

“Oh,” Sarah was laughing a little bit. “Sweetie, look at you, oh my God,” she sounded awfully damn amused. She grabbed the napkin off of her friend’s tray and tried dabbing at Brendon’s shirt with it, but he actually didn’t need any help, thank you. Brendon stood up and darted out of the cafeteria, ignoring the few people who laughed and catcalled after him. His eyes were stinging. He didn’t breathe until he made it safely to the bathroom, where he thought he was alone, but then…

Brendon glanced up and saw a kid there, sitting cross-legged up on the sink with a sandwich halfway to his mouth, frozen. They stared at each other for a tense second, and Brendon recognized him.

“Hey!” he said. “You’re the guy!” and then he wanted to kick himself in the face, because that wasn’t the greatest introduction ever.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” the kid asked, dropping his sandwich into his brown paper bag and glaring. Brendon may have been close to tears a second prior, but now he refused to be deterred and kept a wide smile on his face. The kid would break eventually, he just knew it. He seemed like the kind of guy who would have a really great smile if he would let it out.

Even so, he’d asked a legit question. “From the courtyard,” he said. “I saw you the other day. You flipped me off,” He was still smiling, and he couldn’t help but bounce on his toes a little. Before this kid had been the beautiful and mean, yet mysteriously sad kid at school, and now he was still beautiful and mean and sad, but he was also talking to Brendon.

“Did you throw up on yourself?” the kid asked, staring hard at Brendon’s shirt, and then probably his crotch. Brendon squirmed.

“No,” he said, smile wavering. “It’s milk..”

“Brendon!” both Brendon and the bathroom sandwich kid jumped out of their skin when Sarah slammed into the bathroom. “I am so sorry about that. You looked so upset. Are you alright? I punched Shane in the arm. He knows you’re not actually mexican, he was just playing around. Are you okay? Man, let me help you get cleaned up,”

“Uhm,” the kid sitting on the sink was frowning even more than he had been. “This is the boys’ restroom,” he said.

Sarah shrugged, obviously unconcerned, and pulled Brendon over to the sink, where she began pulling out paper towels to help clean him up or something. Bathroom sandwich kid edged away from them uncomfortably, squinting his eyes and looking awfully confused and intruded upon as he clutched his bag in his hand and slid off the sink.

“Here, God this is a mess,” Sarah practically pressed Brendon up against the wall and went at his shirt, scrubbing it with the rough brown paper towel and trying to do… something. Brendon wasn’t sure what she was trying to do. Really, it was just making a mess. If she tried to clean off his pants that way, he just might stop breathing and die.

Sandwich kid huffed a dramatic sigh and glared at them both before leaving the bathroom. Brendon wondered what that kid’s problem was anyways.

“This isn’t working, is it?” Sarah sighed after a while, looking him over with a frown and throwing out the paper towel.

“Uhm,” Brendon was having problem being vocal today, possibly from the shock of having a maybe-possibly-new-friend. Usually he couldn’t shut up, but today he was just extra jittery and a little bit sweaty. “I mean you tried, and you’re not the one who spilled milk on me, I mean, I spilled milk on me, so it’s nice of you to help and like you’re not even supposed to be in here anyways, but here you are, in the boys’ bathroom helping even thought you could get in trouble, and that’s really nice of you, so-” He snapped his mouth closed to get himself to stop talking. Sarah was looking him over with an amused expression, and Brendon felt pretty embarrassed.

“Sorry,” he said.

“You’re cute,”

Brendon wrinkled his nose up a little, he couldn’t help it, and Sarah laughed. Then the bell rang. Brendon really didn’t want to go to class covered in milk…

“Here,” Sarah dropped to her knees and pulled her backpack over to her, rooting around in it. Brendon’s interest was sparked. He watched as she tugged out a light purple hoodie, bringing with it several crumpled papers and a few candy wrappers, which she grabbed and stuffed back inside. “This’ll fit you. Take your shirt off, it’s all gross,”

His shirt was pretty gross, actually. Brendon didn’t waste any time tugging the thing over his head and then putting on the hoodie she handed him, zipping it up almost all the way and then checking himself out in the mirror. It looked a bit silly, and really purple, tighter than he normally wore his clothes… But Spencer wore his shirts really tight, so maybe it was okay for guys to wear tight clothes. Brendon was kind of skinny though, so maybe he looked stupid…

“You look good,” she said, grinning over his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get out of here, we have class,”

Sarah and Brendon had their next class together, so they walked next to each other. They didn’t sit by each other, but Brendon didn’t mind. He knew he’d probably say something really stupid if he was given too much time to speak. He spent the whole class period playing with the sleeves of the hoodie. It wasn’t baggy the way boys’ clothes always were, but it also wasn’t skin tight, and the sleeves were a bit too long.

After the bell rang, Sarah cornered him and insisted that he come and sit with them (she said “Shane and I” which Brendon had to imagine meant the beard kid) the next day too. He tried to turn her down politely. He didn’t want her to think she had to sit with him because they had the same class, or that she was forced to be friends with him or anything. He didn’t want to take advantage of her friendliness, and he tried to tell her that.

“No, no, really, that’s okay, I-”

“What, you got somewhere better to be, handsome?” she smirked and smacked him on the ass before walking out of the classroom, and Brendon just watched her go, totally bemused until someone shoved him out of the way.

“Nice hoodie, faggot,” they said.

Oh well. He had a friend, apparently, and that was pretty… well… rad.

 

…  
“Why are we doing this again?” Spencer asked, for probably the tenth time, as he drove down the street with a pained expression on his face. Brendon sat in the passenger seat and bounced a bit. It was irritating.

“Because,” he said, as if that explained everything. “They’re super expensive in sport stores and I don’t want to get a cheap Walmart one cause she’ll laugh at me, and they always have them at garage sales! Always! This is Garage Sale Saturday, Spencer, we can’t miss it,”

“Right,” Spencer said, holding in a sigh as he pulled up carefully to the curb at yet another garage sale. Brendon had come home a few days ago talking nonstop about how his new friends knew how to skateboard and how he was going to learn how to skateboard too, so they’d think he was cool, and then he’d announced that he needed a buddy for Garage Sale Saturday. Jon had to work, and Zack had just started chuckling and shook his head ‘no,’ which left Spencer. He was kind of regretting getting his driver’s license at this point.

“You don’t even know how to skateboard,” Spencer reminded Brendon as he followed him up a stranger’s driveway. Brendon was bouncing a bit, and he wondered how many sodas the kid had that day, if maybe they should try and cut him down a bit. Getting Brendon hooked on caffeine had been hilarious before, but now he had to live with the guy, and seriously. It just might drive him crazy.

“That’s the whole point,” Brendon insisted, looking around carefully. “I need a skateboard if I’m going to learn how to skateboard, duh. How else do I learn? Besides, I learn super fast, and I have special wolf powers that have probably given me great balance! I’ll have it mastered in no time,”

‘No time’ ended up being a lot longer than Brendon had planned, but Spencer wasn’t incredibly surprised. They’d gone to a total of nine garage sales before Brendon found the perfect skateboard, and he’d set to work practicing as soon as they’d gotten home. That following Saturday afternoon, Brendon was still going at it. Spencer hadn’t known Brendon could be that determined, or that he could focus on one thing for that long.

It was kind of funny to watch though. Brendon was out back on the concrete patio behind the apartment building, and he’d been going back and forth since late that morning. He kept falling off, or running into things, or screaming. Spencer had been watching for a while, and Jon joined him as soon as he got home from his morning shift at Starbucks.

He smelled strongly of coffee and slightly like toothpaste and cheap shampoo, and he yawned as he sidled up next to Spencer on the balcony, leaning his elbows on the railing and squinting down at Brendon.

“How long has he been doing this?” Jon asked. The dark circles under his eyes suggested he was tired, but his relaxed posture and lazy grin suggested that he was just fine. Spencer sniffed him, and Jon smelled content. All was well.

“A few hours now,” Spencer said. “It’s sad really. Entertaining and inspiring, but sad,”

Jon nodded. Below them, Brendon windmilled and tried to keep his balance. He was almost successful. They watched as he kicked off again, heading back in the other direction. He was doing better this time, but then his wheel hit a bump in the uneven pavement and sent him flying. He stumbled into a trashcan and then fell down, knocking someone’s trash all over the place and making papers flutter around like grafitti. He laid there for a moment, seeming stunned, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh. Jon either, apparently.

“Fuck you!” Brendon was glaring up at them. He shoved his glasses up his nose and sat up, then raised a middle finger towards them. “I bet you’re not so coordinated either, Spencer Smith!”

“Skateboard master, huh?” Spencer asked instead of dignifying that statement with a response. Yeah, he would probably be shitty at skateboarding, but he wasn’t dumb enough to try and learn how.

“Oh hush!”

“Hey,” Jon was still grinning and he pressed it into Spencer’s shoulder as he nuzzled close. Spencer grinned. Jon wasn’t as touchy-feely as Brendon was, but he had his moments. It was comfortable. They were buds. “I’m tired. You wanna leave Brendon to injuring himself and come watch a movie with me?”

Spencer glanced at him and smiled. He was kind of tired, and he could probably nap. “Yeah, sure,” Jon was his favorite person to cuddle up on the couch with, because Jon was all kinds of warm and comfy. They spent the first ten minutes of the movie laying there, Spencer leaning into Jon’s side and letting the older boy card his fingers through his hair. Brendon’s crashing and yelling and laughing could be heard just barely through the walls of the building, and it made Spencer smile. Jon was asleep within fifteen minutes, and when Spencer noticed, he nudged Jon onto his side and covered him up with a blanket, letting him use Spencer’s lap as a pillow. Jon only made tiny, quiet noises in his sleep when Spencer shifted him, and Spencer thought to himself that Jon was pretty fucking adorable when he was sleeping.

 

…  
Zack got a phone call at the same time that someone started knocking. Trying to decide what his best option was at the moment, he picked up his cellphone while walking to the door. He checked the screen- Brendon’s school- and then checked the peep hole- Brendon. Wait. What?

“Hello?” he held his phone up to his ear while also opening the door. He held his finger up to Brendon to say, hold up a second, but the kid just mumbled something about forgetting his key before ducking past Zack and slinking down the hallway to his room. Brendon hadn’t been wearing his glasses, and the secretary on the phone sounded slightly frantic. So many things were weird about this situation that Zack barely knew where to start.

“Yes, he’s here with me, actually he just got home. Why, is he in trouble?” Zack said into his phone and then listened as the secretary turned from worried to angry. Brendon moved from his bedroom into the bathroom, shuffling around with his head down, and Zack was concerned. He was used to knowing what was going on and being able to manage it. This. This he didn’t understand. What the hell was going on?

While Zack got forwarded to Brendon’s principal and took the time to talk the angry man down from his thundercloud, Brendon snuck back into his bedroom and shut the door behind him. Zack sighed to himself and reassured the man on the phone that yes, he would handle it (whatever the hell that meant). Yes, Brendon was fine. Yes, he would talk to him. Yes, he understood. Yes, thank you, okay, bye.

Taking a minute to frown at his phone, Zack eventually set it down and went to the door to Brendon’s room. He knocked gently. ‘Handle it’ he’d said. Right. Yeah. What? “Brendon?”

“Go away,” came the reply from inside, and yeah, uh, no.

“Brendon,” he opened the door anyways and stepped inside. Brendon was sprawled out face first on his bed with his head hidden under a pillow.

“Please go away?” he tried, and Zack just shook his head.

“Your school just called,” Zack said, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. Brendon shied away from him. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“No thank you,”

Zack hadn’t actually meant it to be a request, and that caught him off guard a bit. He really hated being off guard. He was an alpha. It was his job to not be off guard. “So you’re just going to disappear from class at nine thirty in the morning, freak out your school, come hide in your bedroom, and then not explain what’s going on?”

Brendon didn’t respond. He just clutched his pillow tighter to his head and made a whimpering noise. Zack would have been pissed, except for the fact that Brendon smelled really, incredibly sad. Yelling would just make the kid clam up more, and then Zack would be nowhere close to figuring out what the hell was going on. Fuck.

“Hey,” he nudged Brendon’s leg gently with his hand, and Brendon made a tiny noise.

“I’m sorry,”

Zack ignored that. Brendon was always apologizing for something or other, which Zack was also trying to understand and then deal with. He really wasn’t prepared for this ‘teenager’ thing…

“Where are your glasses?” he decided to start there- easy enough question, he thought- since he’d noticed Brendon hadn’t had them on when he’d snuck in. Brendon lost his glasses a lot, but it was more misplacement around the apartment than actually losing them.

Brendon reached his hand into his pocket and then thrust it out towards Zack with a muffled, “Here.” Zack took them only to find that one of the arms was bent horribly, they were cracked in the middle, and one of the lenses was shattered. Oh. Well, brilliant. It looked like somebody stepped on them.

“How’d this happen, B?”

“Fell off my skateboard,”

Well, at least that was believable enough, even if it was a total lie. Zack had only been listening to Brendon’s attempts at skateboarding for two weeks now, and they ranged from cringe-worthy to down-right-hilarious. One time he’d had to go down there and intervene when one of their extremely irritated neighbors started threatening Brendon because the kid had dented one of their trash cans. It had been an eventful two weeks, but considering Brendon’s recent history, Zack would have be willing to believe that the glasses were part of a skateboarding casualty.

He nudged Brendon again, and this time the kid sighed heavily at him but sat up, trapping his hands under his thighs and letting his legs dangle off the bed, head down and not making eye contact.

“You’re bleeding,” Zack mentioned. He could smell it, and he figured that offering observations and letting Brendon explain them was the only way he was going to figure this situation out at all.

Brendon fidgeted next to him, the way he always did if he was nervous or lying (Zack had figured that out pretty fast after meeting him). “I skinned my knee,”

Right. Sure. He frowned. “Let me see it,”

“No,” Brendon shifted away from him and drew his legs up to his chest. “It’s fine. I took care of it,”

“It could get infected,”

“It’ll be healed in half an hour,” Brendon argued, hugging his legs tighter and setting his chin on his knees, which Zack figured would hurt if Brendon had actually skinned his knees, but he decided not to bring it up.

“What am I supposed to tell your principal, Brendon?” Zack asked, sighing. He was in over his head. “I told him that I’d deal with this,”

Brendon actually physically flinched next to Zack, which freaked him out, but he finally looked up. “How are you going to do that?” he asked, fidgeting all over the place. Zack frowned and squinted. What?

“I’m talking to you…” he said slowly. “Brendon, what are you talking about?” The thing was, Zack wasn’t a moron. He knew some of what had happened just from watching the way Brendon reacted to things, but he also wasn’t a fucking mind reader. It would be nice if Brendon would let him in on the secret (or Spencer, since Spencer seemed to know what had happened too) so that maybe he could have some kind of context to work with (Every time Zack brought it up, Brendon looked like a kicked puppy, and Spencer got this pissy look on his face and said ‘Don’t worry about it, Zack. Jesus.’ Zack was going to strangle that boy and his attitude one of these days). Even so, no matter how many times Zack gave Brendon the ‘I swear I’m not going to hurt you, okay?’ talk, nothing seemed to change. At least the kid had stopped calling him ‘sir.’ That had been weird.

There was lots of head shaking and Brendon wouldn’t look at him again. Zack sighed again, heavily.

“Did something happen at school, Bden?” Zack asked, since he had a pretty good idea that something certainly had happened at school. Just another thing that Zack didn’t know how to deal with. Because really, if someone was messing with Brendon, Brendon would only have to flip into wolf mode to fight back and win by a landslide, even if he was just a skinny little kid and a puppy. But Brendon was also pretty clumsy, and he probably didn’t know how to focus his strength enough to win in a fight. And sure, his extra strength could help fight off one bully, but outnumbered he probably wouldn’t stand a chance... Zack wasn’t ready to deal with this kind of thing.

In response to his question, Brendon shook his head and hugged his legs tighter. Zack noticed that the kid’s eyes were starting to get shiny.

“I fell off my skateboard,” he insisted.

“Brendon…”

“I just don’t feel good,” he finally said, voice coming out kind of choked and really quiet. His eyes were full on watering now, and he bit down on his bottom lip. It had been trembling.

“You don’t feel good?” Zack felt Brendon’s forehead with the back of his hand. “You don’t have a fever… Are you sick?”

Brendon shook his head again and buried his face in his knees. “I just don’t feel good,” he said again. “Can I please just stay home from school today? Please?”

Zack had a feeling that he really shouldn’t reward truant behavior by letting Brendon stay home. He tried to think of what the Walker parents would do in this situation, or hell, what his own parents would have done. He’d never been an emotional kid, so he wasn’t sure his mom would have known how to deal with this, but he also couldn’t imagine Jon’s mother forcing one of her sons to go back if they’d looked this upset.

“Yeah,” he said eventually. “Yeah, alright. You can stay home,”

Brendon sniffled. Zack really had no idea what to do…

“I just… can I just be alone for a minute please?” Brendon asked in a tiny voice, and well, Zack didn’t know what to do anyways.

“Yeah, okay,” he stood up and ruffled Brendon’s hair gently. “We’ll go out and get new glasses later, okay?”

“Okay,”

“We can take Spencer and Jon with us,”

Brendon shrugged.

After Zack had left the room, he still felt like he had no idea what was going on or what he was supposed to do. He called Brendon’s principal back and assured him that he’d dealt with it and it wouldn’t happen again, but Brendon wouldn’t be coming back to school that day. He was slightly paranoid that the principal could tell Zack had no idea what he was doing, that he wasn’t trained enough for this ‘taking care of teenagers’ thing. To be honest, he wasn’t even sure whether it would or would not happen again, since he didn’t have a solid idea what inspired Brendon to play hooky in the first place, but… he’d deal with that. Yeah. He’d just move on, and if it happened again, so be it, he’d manage. That’s what he did.

 

…  
Dinner was awkward and tense. There was something wrong with Brendon- something that was making him fidget and keep his head down and not talk (the not talking was the weirdest part. Also, he wasn’t wearing his glasses, but Jon just figured he misplaced them again). As a result of Brendon acting all sad, Spencer spent the entire meal side-eying Brendon and trying to get his attention, but Brendon was having none of it. Seeing the two of them go back and forth was like an olympic event. Olympic pingpong or something.

Meanwhile, Zack was practically radiating tension, and Jon was left feeling like the air was heavier than it was supposed to be. The whole apartment felt negative and sad and tense and just weird, and nobody was talking about what was going on. Well, Jon wasn’t going to be the one that pushed. They would talk whenever they were ready. He decided to let Spencer do all the pushing; Jon would just sit back and be the only person in the apartment acting normally.

Brendon always ate super fast, so he was practically done with his dinner when everyone else was only halfway through. The only thing left on his plate was green beans. Jon prepared himself to watch another round of World War Bean, but he was caught off guard when Brendon slowly pushed his plate away and Zack didn’t push it back. He left it there. Jon was momentarily confused.

Someone knocked on the door.

“I got it,” Spencer was on his feet and across the room before anyone else had the chance to react. Just another sign that things were tense- when things got tense, Spencer started doing anything he could to keep himself occupied. Usually he micromanaged things (sorted papers, organized homework, made lists, cleaned, etc.) but there wasn’t a whole lot to micromanage at the dinner table (he’d sorted all of his food into careful piles before eating it). Jon stabbed the green beans off Brendon’s plate and ate them, like always, but this time Zack was watching and he didn’t make a move to stop him. Weird.

“Hey… Zack, come here…” Spencer said from the doorway. Zack got up and went over, frowning, and Jon followed him, curious. Brendon didn’t move from his seat. Jon was curious about that too.

At the door was a kid. Jon recognized him from the woods last moon night. He was short with spiky blonde hair and tattered clothes, coated in a layer of dirt that made Jon question when the kid had last taken a shower. He stood there, a scowl and dark circles under his eyes decorating his face, and he was clutching his arm to his chest.

“You said I could come back if I needed anything,” the kid said, chin up and voice demanding, as if he were daring them to take it back. After a brief moment of scowling, he dropped his gaze down and scuffed his dirty sneaker on the hallway floor. “I need some help..”

Zack ushered him inside, and it didn’t escape Jon how the kid evaded their touch at all cost. Spencer went and got the first aid kit out from under the sink, and Brendon seemed to have snapped out of his sulk. He was now sitting up straight in his seat and watching them with wide, interested eyes. Well, Jon thought. That’s good, at least.

“What happened?” Zack asked.

The kid shrugged. “I… there’s another town an hour south of here… I ran into someone, and they got a little territorial,” He was obviously trying to act tough (and doing a decent job of it) but the way he was gingerly holding his arm close to him was telling the truth.

“A wolf?” Zack asked. He had pulled a chair up directly in front of the kid and sat close, leaning forward. The kid gave him a wary look before surrendering over his arm.

He nodded. “Alpha. I was on their turf,” his expression said ‘I don’t care’ but Jon had a feeling he did. “I think it’s broken,”

Zack looked it over, being very gentle and careful, before nodding. “Spence, get my phone out of my room and call Pete. Jon, get some tylenol out of the cabinet. We’ll need five. You know how weak mortal drugs are,” Jon nodded and went to the bathroom to get that. The cabinet above the sink was kind of messy (obviously Spencer’s nervous organizing habits hadn’t reached it yet) and it took him a little while to find the tylenol bottle amongst the tooth paste and deodorants and outdated orange prescription bottles. He found it though, eventually, and just as soon as he went back into the main room there was a puff of smoke.

“Another one, Zack? Jesus Christ, is this place an orphanage now or something?” There was Pete, standing right there with his arms crossed and a bemused expression on his face. “How old is this one, twelve?”

“I’m sixteen,” the kid snapped, practically growling. He was kind of vicious. “Almost seventeen,”

Zack ignored that entire conversation. “His arm is broken, we think. He needs some help. He’s been wandering around and he can’t survive out there like this, and we can’t take him to the hospital. They’ll ask too many questions,”

“You know, Zack,” Pete sidled up to the other man, which was kind of funny. Zack totally dwarfed Pete when they stood close to each other like that. Zack had a habit of dwarfing all of them- even Spencer, who was currently going through some awkward growth spurt. He’d once been the same height as Jon, but now he was inching closer and closer to six foot.

Pete grinned like a cheshire cat, yellow canary feathers sticking out between pointy teeth, “I’ve been doing you a whole lot of favors for you lately. Usually I ask for payment, and y’know,” Pete glanced over Jon and then Spencer, where he stopped. “That one is pretty cute. You could pay me with him,”

Jon growled, deep in his throat, without meaning to. Pete’s gaze flitted over to him and he smirked. Zack glanced at him and frowned. Spencer wasn’t even paying attention.

“I’m just playing,” Pete said, then went over to the kid sitting at their kitchen table, which hadn’t been cleared from dinner. Everything was still laid out as if they were just a normal family having a normal meal.

“Show me your arm, kiddo,”

The kid scowled, but he held his arm out. The entire time, he didn’t let his glare drop from Pete’s face. He was watching him carefully, as if he didn’t trust him, which he probably didn’t. Jon didn’t really blame him.

Pete put both hands on the arm, and the kid hissed in a breath between his teeth. Then Pete slid his hands over the swollen area and breathed a purple breath out through puffed up cheeks, and just like that, the swelling was gone. A slight amount of tension drained from the boy’s face.

“It’s healed, but it’ll still be tender,” Pete said, straightening up and stepping away. He pointed a finger at Zack. “No more strays. Brainwashing and changing government documents is hard work, you know! Peace,” and just like that, with another puff of smoke that sent Spencer into a coughing fit and made Brendon sneeze, Pete was gone. Jon stifled a sneeze and rubbed his sleeve against his nose.

“Here,” he held the tylenol bottle out to the kid, who eyed him carefully before taking it. Maybe giving a full bottle of tylenol to an angry, homeless teenage boy who probably had emotional issues wasn’t a good idea, but Jon had a feeling the kid wouldn’t take them if they’d come from Jon’s hand.

“I have to get to work,” Zack said, straightening up the first aid bag and putting it back. “Bden, you’re in charge of dishes tonight-” Brendon didn’t protest at all. It was weird. He did mumble ‘yes sir,’ and Zack got that slightly confused look on his face the way he always did. “-Jon, help him clean up, okay? Spence, you and Jon are in charge of taking care of our guest,”

The kid scowled up at Zack as if trying to tell him telepathically that he was not a guest and fuck you, but hey, Jon wasn’t a mind reader. Maybe that scowl meant thank you.

Zack addressed the scowling kid this time. “Feel free to eat, clean up, sleep over, anything you need. These guys will help you out, alright?”

The kid didn’t respond. Zack didn’t seem phased.

“Brendon, I expect you in bed before I get home. Preferably before eleven,” they all knew how twitchy Brendon got when he didn’t sleep. Brendon got twitchy, Spencer got bitchy, and Jon just yawned a lot and fell asleep on his feet. They should probably all be in bed by eleven…

After five minutes, Zack was out of the apartment and on his way to work. Spencer took over before Jon could.

“You want something to eat?” he asked.

The kid looked up at Spencer and glared, but then he looked at all the food on the table and eventually shrugged, then nodded. He ended up eating four plates of food (when was the last time this poor kid had eaten? Werewolf metabolisms were nothing to play around with) all while Brendon “sneakily” watched him with wide eyes. Jon was slightly worried that Brendon was going to creep this kid out, or just piss him off.

He went up behind Brendon’s chair and wrapped his arm around Brendon’s neck like a headlock. “Come on, Bden. Let’s get a start on the dishes,” Brendon went easily, grinning a bit, and Jon was proud of the fact that he could touch Brendon without him flinching. It hadn’t been that way when they’d first met.

As soon as dishes were done, Brendon shuffled off to bed- just another sign that the kid was acting weird. Usually he’d be up bouncing around until midnight, whining whenever anyone tried to make him go to sleep and cuddling anyone who would hold still long enough. He only went to bed early when there was something wrong. Jon wanted to worry about it more, but there was someone else there who needed his attention. He’d get to Brendon later.

The stranger didn’t really need a whole lot of attention though.. Jon kept pushing, trying to get the kid to tell them his name, but he was obviously determined to keep his mouth shut. Jon, eventually, had to give up. The kid did agree to take a shower though, only after glaring warily at Jon and Spencer and making sure the bathroom door locked. The kid was probably just nervous to be around strangers.

He was even more reluctant to take clean clothes. He was taller than Jon (thus also taller than Brendon), but no where near as tall as Zack. He was also skinny as fuck, like someone who hadn’t been eating well. Jon figured it out though. He took a clean pair of boxers from Brendon (he needed something that wouldn’t fall off the kid’s hips) and some jeans from Spencer, which were going to be too big around no matter what they did, so he gave him a belt too, and one of his old t-shirts. The kid glared at the clothes that were presented and insisted that his own were fine, thank you. Jon reasoned that the kid’s clothes were filthy. He offered to clean them and have them ready to go by the morning, and it took a while, but finally the younger wolf agreed to that and borrowed a pair of Spencer’s sweat pants and one of Jon’s t-shirts to sleep in. Jon put Spencer in charge of washing the clothes, even though he groaned and rolled his eyes at having to walk all the way down stairs to the creepy laundry room. Jon teased him until he agreed.

It was around midnight when they’d all settled down to go to sleep, the strange kid grumpily settled on the couch in the living room, Spencer and Jon in their room. Spencer had meticulously folded the kid’s clothes and laid them out on the other couch for him in the morning, clean and dry. Jon had set one of Spencer’s hoodies on top of the pile, because no one should be running around Colorado in October in just a t-shirt, they’d freeze to death, werewolf or not. It was Spencer’s because the kid was a bit too tall to fit into one of Jon’s. His arms would be too long.

In the dark of their room, blankets pulled up to his chin, Jon stared at the ceiling and watched his thoughts swim around him in the dark. He tried talking to Spencer (about the new kid in their apartment and what Spencer thought about it, about why Brendon was acting so weird or why Zack hadn’t forced anyone to actually eat the green beans. Hell, he’d even talk to Spencer about the cute guy he’d met at work and gone on a coffee date with), but every time he tried, Spencer pretended to be asleep and didn’t answer him. After a few failed attempts, Jon resigned himself to silence and stared up at the ceiling. He drifted off eventually, a short while before Zack got home from work, and didn’t dream about anything.

 

…  
Brendon must have slept through his alarm, because he woke up to Spencer. Spencer was grumpy in the mornings and not to be messed with, but Brendon could be grumpy too, so Spencer would just have to deal with him.

“Wake the fuck up,” Spencer complained. “You’re going to be late for school, and you’re going to make me late for class,”

“Go away,” Brendon was too exhausted to think of a better retort. He could barely hold his eyes open, and he felt like shit. Today was not a good day to get out of bed.

“Brendon, for the love of God,” Spencer complained some more, and Brendon felt something solid yet soft thump against his back. He figured it was a pillow and burrowed deeper under his blankets.

“Fuck off!”

“No!”

“Spencerrrrrrr,” Brendon resorted to whining. “I don’t want to go to school today. Leave me alone,”

“Yeah, after skipping school yesterday, I’m not sure missing school today too is going to look so good,” Spencer sounded bitchy. He was probably tired. Spencer wasn’t a morning person. “Get. Up,” He started hitting Brendon with the pillow again. Brendon wasn’t in the mood to put up with Spencer.

“Fuck off,” he repeated, kicking and hoping to hit Spencer in the leg. Instead he felt hands grab his ankle, and before he knew what was happening, Spencer yanked on him and Brendon ended up falling out of bed and onto a painful heap on the floor.

“Ow,” he whined, kicking at Spencer’s ankle. Sencer had his arms crossed and was scowling down at him. Brendon stuck his tongue out. “You suck,”

“Get ready for school, dumb ass,” and then Spencer was gone. Brendon growled at his back, just because. He wasn’t really mad at Spencer. Normally, it would have been totally funny to fall out of bed like that, but Brendon was in a bad mood, and just thinking about going to school made him want to cry and throw up. Thinking about doing anything made him feel that way, actually. He wanted to go back to sleep forever.

Even so, Brendon knew that wasn’t an option. If he tried, Spencer would just come back in there and pour water on him. Or Jon would come and try tickling him until he woke up. Or Zack would give him that disappointed face until Brendon felt guilty enough to die and had to leave the apartment for his own well-being. Obviously Brendon didn’t have a lot of options.

It wasn’t that Brendon hated school. Sure, a lot of people were mean to him, and someone had literally stomped on his glasses and dumped his backpack out on top of his head yesterday, but he could handle that kind of stuff. He could handle bad stuff happening; he just wished that this overwhelming sadness building up in his throat would go away already.

He reminded himself that he didn’t have a right to be sad. He had friends, and he had a replacement family who, while unconventional, were still kind of amazing and cared about him. Things were good. Brendon didn’t have a right to be sad. The homeless kid sleeping on their couch had a right to be sad. Brendon had to just get over whatever this horrible mood was, and he reminded himself of that while he pushed his new glasses onto his face and bounced (if he acted happy, maybe he’d trick himself) into the kitchen.

Speaking of the strange kid, though… he wasn’t there. His clothes were gone and he was gone. Brendon frowned.

“Where did he go?” he asked. Jon was at the coffee maker, holding a cup in his hands and looking too tired to function. Spencer had a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth while he stood at the stove frying bacon. Another good thing about living with other werewolves is they understood the importance of breakfast. Eating bacon in the morning might just be the only reason Brendon was able to pull himself out of bed anymore.

Jon shrugged. “He just left last night some time, I guess. He didn’t leave a note or anything,”

“I didn’t expect him to stay,” Spencer said around his piece of toast. It was kind of hard to understand him. “I mean, he obviously doesn’t trust us,”

“Well,” Jon said, “He’s a scared kid and we’re a bunch of strangers,”

“At least you didn’t make this one take his shirt off,” Spencer mumbled around his toast, making a joke about the first time Spencer and Jon had met, the night Spencer had been changed. Jon had found him and brought him back to the apartment to get cleaned up. Just-barely-seventeen year old Spencer had been mildly concerned about being in a strange apartment with strange men, up until the point that he blacked out. Brendon had heard the story from everyone’s point of view, and it was pretty fucking hilarious, no matter how you looked at it.

“Oh my God, you are going to have to get over that eventually,” Jon rolled his eyes and whipped a nearby dishtowel at Spencer’s ass. Spencer jumped and turned to smack him or something, but then his toast broke off and fell to the floor.

Everyone looked down at it forlornly. “Oh damn,” Spencer said.

“Five second rule!” Brendon declared, scooping it off the floor and taking a bite, just to hear Spencer groan.

“Oh my God, that is disgusting! I am making food right now! Can’t you wait?”

Brendon just grinned smugly at Spencer and finished off the toast. If he kept up the normal shenanigans, Jon would stop looking at him with that concerned expression and Brendon would stop feeling like he was going to burst into tears.

He decided that he officially needed some coffee if he was going to make it through the day without Jon and teachers and Sarah asking him if he was okay. He probably couldn’t handle that at this point. He nudged Jon outta the way and ignored Jon’s protests while he poured himself some coffee and put as much sugar in it as possible. It didn’t taste very good, but oh well. Brendon just hoped it would work.

 

…  
Coffee had been a really, really, really bad idea. Brendon couldn’t sit still. His leg was bouncingbouncingbouncing by it’s own accord and his hands were literally trembling. He felt bouncy and jittery. If he held still he was going to vibrate out of his skin. He was probably going to vibrate out of his skin anyways. Also, he was nauseous, and he was still really fucking sad.

Today was a bad day.

“Dude, are you okay?” Sarah asked him during lunch, after Brendon had spent the entire hour before squirming all over the place and not paying any attention at all to his Spanish teacher.

“Uh huh, I’m super!” Brendon exclaimed, because he didn’t have incredible amounts of control over his mouth at the moment. He immediately started giggling, so hard that he doubled over and had to drop his head on the sticky dark red lunch table. He could feel himself shaking.

“Dude, is he drunk?” that must have been Shane, who was reaching over and poking his shoulder.

“Brendon,” Sarah’s voice was gentle, like she was worried he was sick or self destructing or something. It made him giggle again. “Brendon, did you take anything this morning? Like… drugs? Or have you been drinking?”

Brendon didn’t know what kind of drugs would have this effect on him. He remembered taking ritalin once upon a time when he was like, nine, or something. But they’d made him feel awful and cloudy, and he’d begged his mom to let him stop taking them. His parents hadn’t liked the idea of him taking behavioral medication very much in the first place (some kind of contradiction with the church) and had immediately thrown the pills out. Brendon hadn’t had any drug besides cold medicine and ibuprophen (and weed, twice) since then. Maybe he should look into drugs. Maybe those would make him feel happy or something. Less like dying, at least.

“I drank coffee this morning,” Brendon said, and for some reason that was hilarious. He burst out laughing again.

“Oh for the love of-” he heard Sarah say. She sounded both like she was annoyed with him but also like she wanted to laugh. Brendon hoped she started laughing. He didn’t like when people were annoyed with him. “Shane, what are we going to do with him?”

“Not my fault,” Shane said, and Brendon looked up in time to see Sarah punch him in the shoulder.

“Here, sweetie, eat these chicken nuggets, okay?” Sarah’s hand pushed her lunch tray across the table to him. Maybe he should feel bad that she was giving him her lunch. She should eat her lunch. He let himself look at her hand, chewed fingernails on slender hands connected to wrists and arms, all pale skin. Girls were so weird… so soft and not pointy like guys were. Even so, she had pretty hands.

“Pretty hands?” she asked, looking confused. Brendon blushed. He must have said it outloud.

“Sorry,”

"I like your glasses,"

"They're new," Brendon explained.

She sighed and grinned at him, “Yeah. Eat the chicken,”

“Okay,” Brendon acquiesced, shoving a chicken nugget in his mouth. His leg was bouncing up and down again, shaking the bench he was sitting on. Someone down the table a little way glared at him, but Brendon couldn’t exactly stop. He felt like throwing up again.

Sarah reached across under the table and patted him on the knee. Oh, Brendon thought. Huh. Okay. He ate another chicken nugget.

 

...  
When Zack came home from the store there was one extra teenager in his apartment, which made him curious. It was a girl too. Curiouser. Sitting on the living room couch was a girl with dark hair and bright eyes, wearing ratty jeans and a hoodie, and cradling Brendon's head in her lap. Brendon looked nearly asleep, heavy lidded and peaceful while the girl continued to run her fingers through the boy’s hair, a relaxing pattern. Brendon was also wearing some ridiculous purple hoodie. He looked bizarre. The girl looked up at Zack and smiled.

 

"Hey. I'm Sarah," she said with an easy grin on her face. She stopped petting Brendon for a moment, and he let out a whiny noise. When she started up again, he closed his eyes. "You must be Brendon's father?"

 

It was a question that Zack didn't know how to answer, didn't know he would have to worry about answering. He didn't know exactly what Pete put down when he changed all the documents, so Zack decided to just go with the vague truth.

 

"Something like that," he said, and the girl looked curious but didn't push, which Zack appreciated. "Is Brendon alright?"

 

She nodded and looked down at the boy on her lap. "He drank like four cups of coffee today," she explained. "He was freaking insane until, like, sixth hour. Then he crashed. Shane had to help me practically carry him to his classes. I brought him home because I wasn't sure he could make it by himself without falling over,"

 

Zack probably should have thanked her- he was an adult. He understood social protocol- but instead he said, "Who the fuck let him drink coffee?" He knew it was Jon. He'd have to talk to him later. He'd also have to talk to Brendon, give him the 'don't do things that you know are going to end badly' speech. Zack had come to realize that watching kids came with lots of todo lists. Maybe he should start getting up before they go to school so he could keep an eye on them.

 

"Is it okay that I'm hanging out here? I could go-"

 

"It's fine," Zack said, grinning to let the kid know he was sincere. "Stay as long as you want. Just shout if you need something," Zack went into the too small kitchen and finally put the grocery bags down. There were three, and they weren't heavy or anything, just bulky. There was a box of cereal digging into his stomach. After making sure that anything that could spoil was in the fridge, he left everything else on the counter and headed down the hall. He needed a shower. Spencer would probably put it away before he got back to it.

…  
Sarah came over a lot after that event. Jon could tell it freaked Spencer out a bit, having a mortal in the apartment. Spencer had talked to Jon about it first, all frowns and worried eyebrows. Jon had told him to chill, but Spencer never listened to it. He heard Spencer talking to Brendon about it only a day later.

“B, you can’t just… she can’t find out we’re werewolves. You know that. This is dangerous,” Spencer had sat Brendon down in his and Jon’s room on Spencer’s bed to talk to him. Brendon, in response, had grinned and shrugged.

“You worry too much, Spin, geeze,” he’d said. It made Spencer frown.

“Brendon. I’m serious, you-”

“Spencer,” Brendon said, suddenly serious and catching Jon’s attention from the hallway. “This is the first friend I’ve made in… a long time. Just let me have this, okay?” Something sad wavered in his voice, making him look like he was about to cry. Spencer opened his mouth to say something else, and Jon decided to stop this before he made Brendon cry or something.

“Hey,” Jon bounced into the room and tackled Spencer back onto the bed, making the younger boy squeak. Spencer growled and squirmed, trying to shove him off. Jon laughed and kept Spencer pinned down. “Stop being so serious, Smith. I’ll lick your face. Don’t think I won’t,”

“Ew. Ew get off, fucker,” Spencer could be vicious when he wanted to be, growling and struggling. Brendon giggled and launched himself at them, which probably wasn’t the best thing that could have happened. It hurt when they tumbled off of the bed and crashed onto the floor, Spencer complaining loudly and kicking, so Jon started tickling him. In the end, Jon got kicked between the legs and Spencer got pissy, but Brendon got to keep his friend, so it wasn’t all that bad.

 

…  
Brendon sat around the apartment and watched Spencer be grumpy. It was only entertaining for a short period of time, and after that it became irritating. It was raining outside, and the October air was chilly and thin so close to the mountains, light dustings of snow beginning to fall at nights but not sticking yet. Brendon would have been outside practicing skateboarding, but Zack had said absolutely not, there were enough accidents when everything wasn’t slippery. Brendon couldn’t exactly be upset about that. It was good reasoning, and someone ought to be responsible.

Anyways, he was stuck inside the apartment with Spencer who was sighing dramatically more than he was actually focusing on his schoolwork. Brendon frowned at him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked the obvious question, looking over Spencer’s slumped posture, frowning face, tense jaw, hand slightly-too-tight on his pencil.

“Nothing,” Spencer snapped, and well… Brendon didn’t want to get yelled at. He didn’t push it.

He noticed how Spencer checked his cellphone every few minutes, as if willing it to start ringing. Brendon wondered who he was hoping would call. Probably not his parents, or at least not his mom. Spencer was really weird when it came to his mom, but he didn’t like to talk about it. Brendon didn’t blame him. There were things he didn’t want to talk about either.

Brendon figured that Spencer was probably waiting for Jon to text him. Jon had a shift at Starbucks that day from ten until four. Usually when Jon had that shift, he and Spencer would go hang out someplace after work. They always came back smiling like weirdos and smelling like really wonderful and disgusting pizza. They looked so happy that Brendon wasn’t even sore about not being invited.

As time progressed, Spencer looked and smelled grumpier. It was unnerving, really. How was Brendon supposed to focus on conjugating irregular spanish verbs and foiling (whatever the hell that meant) functions when Spencer was periodically sighing and growling at nothing? Zack noticed that something was up too, because he kept throwing them cautious glances. Brendon just caught his eye and shrugged. Zack rolled his eyes.

It wasn’t until five-thirty when Jon finally came home, an hour and fifteen minutes late and half-an-hour from when they usually started dinner. He was practically walking on air, grinning a bit to himself (a special grin, because Jon Walker was almost always grinning, but this one was special some how). He had remembered to take off his apron and his visor at least, and his hair was combed (a strange thing to see. it was usually messy). As a finishing touch, he smelled different. He smelled like coffee and mango shampoo and Jon as always, but also like somebody that Brendon didn’t recognize, and like food.

“Hey puppies,” he approached the table, where he kissed Spencer on the head and ruffled Brendon’s hair. He was acting funny, and Spencer was obviously trying not to growl at him.

“Someone looks happy,” Zack commented from his spot in the doorway. “Make a new friend?”

Jon honest-to-God smirked, and Brendon almost giggled, but he didn’t. “I had a date tonight,” Jon declared, chin up and sounding pretty proud of himself. Brendon smiled for him, but it faltered when he looked at Spencer and saw his friend’s expression. Spencer looked kind of like he was going to throw up.

Spencer said, “A date? With who?” while Zack said, “Go get ‘em tiger!” Jon was practically glowing, and he laughed.

“His name is James. I met him a week or so ago at the shop and we exchanged phone numbers, and we had a quick dinner date tonight after my shift was over,” Jon explained, and Brendon felt like his blood had frozen in his veins for a second.

“Wait,” he said. “He?”

Jon turned towards Brendon and frowned, a curious expression playing on his face through furrowed eyebrows. “Yeah Bren, uhm… James is a guy,” Brendon sniffed at him, trying hard not to be obvious, and Jon smelled suddenly afraid. Oh.

“Oh,”

“I’m gay,” he said, jaw set a certain way that would have made Brendon want to cower if he hadn’t known Jon was scared. “Is that a problem?”

Brendon would have been the world’s biggest hypocrite if it was a problem. “No,” he said sincerely. He was working on sounding sincere and grown-up. “No, of course not. I just… didn’t know,” he smiled to be reassuring or something. “That’s awesome!”

The fear seemed to wash away as quickly as it had flooded in and Jon grinned again, ruffling Brendon’s hair and tugging playfully on one of his ears, making Brendon whine in his throat and tilt his head. “You’re a weirdo,” Jon said.

Brendon didn’t notice until then that Spencer had left the room. He frowned after him and thought, huh… what’s his problem?

 

…  
Jon hadn’t thought too much about it when Spencer stormed away from the table. Spencer got into moods; they all knew that. It was best to just let him be cranky by himself until he went back to normal (Jon had tried strangle-hugging him into smiling once, since that worked on Brendon 75% of the time, but Spencer had just growled at him). So Jon hadn’t really thought about it. He’d just sat down at the table next to Brendon and told him all about his date, probably sounding like a school girl, but he didn’t think Brendon would judge. He’d meant to leave out the part about making out in James’ care in front of the apartment building for ten minutes, but Brendon had started waggling his eyebrows at him. Zack said that if he wanted them to believe him, he shouldn’t have come in smelling like hormones and sweat, and yeah. Zack had a point. There was no use denying it.

Anyways, Jon was certain that Spencer would be better by the time they went to bed that night. On the contrary, Spencer had still been sulking and had hardly said a word to Jon, which was freaking him out. Jon had been in the middle of changing clothes when Spencer had huffed and turned the lights out, leaving Jon half-naked in the dark and really confused  
.  
“What the fuck?” he had asked, but Spencer was pretending to be asleep. Fine, whatever. He figured he would just wait the brat out and find out what was wrong in the morning. Until then, he had time to dream about a pretty rad makeout session and feel like a high schooler again. That would keep him preoccupied enough.

The problem arose the next morning, however, when Spencer shoved past him on his way out of the bathroom and later disappeared onto the balcony with his coffee instead of hanging out in the living room. Jon frowned after him and looked at a sleepy-eyed Brendon for help, but Brendon had just shrugged and poured himself a cup of coffee (he got in one sip before Zack entered the room and said absolutely not. Brendon didn’t look terribly devastated when his coffee got poured down the kitchen sink, but he did curl up on the couch and pass out again).

“What’s wrong with Spencer?” Zack asked him, frowning at the balcony and sipping at his own cup of coffee. Jon may have been pouting slightly as he shrugged.

“He’s acting weird…”

“Have you talked to him about it?” Zack asked, and he made it sound a bit too easy. Talking to Spencer made sense. Jon should have thought of that. But it also sounded kind of hard…

“I’ll do it later,” he decided, going over to the couch and curling up next to Brendon. He turned on South Park, causing the younger wolf next to him to grin sleepily and open his eyes to watch.

Half an hour later, all of Jon’s coffee was gone along with all feeling in his left arm (Brendon had curled up half-on-top of him and Jon’s arm had gotten crushed somewhere underneath. He didn’t mind, really, but it was kind of tingly). He only half-listened while Brendon explained what Kenny was really saying in the opening song (something about vaginas… Jon googled it once), because he was actually listening to the balcony door slide open as Spencer came back inside. Jon sniffed the air cautiously, but all he could pick up on was coffee and eggs and a sleepy yet content Brendon. At least Brendon was happy this morning. The kid had been carrying a raincloud around with him for a while, and Jon had been kind of worried.

He untangled himself from Brendon and went into the kitchen with the pretense of putting his cup in the sink, when really he wanted to talk to Spencer. Spencer frowned and purposefully did not look up from the newspaper crossword that he wasn’t actually doing, and it made Jon frown some more.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, doing the dishes so that he had something to do with his hands. Spencer didn’t answer him. He just shrugged.

“Seriously, Spence. What’s with the silent treatment?” Jon insisted. It may have been driving him a little crazy. Spencer was his buddy; Jon thought the kid walked on air. Jon may or may not have been in love with him. He couldn’t stand this cold-shoulder business. It was going to kill him.

“Absolutely nothing,” Spencer drawled, and Jon could tell without looking that he had rolled his eyes hard, meaning that it was absolutely something. He turned off the faucet and turned around.

“Funny. I don’t believe you,” he said. Spencer glared at him.

“Fuck off, would you?” Spencer snarled. Jon couldn’t help but feeling guilty. What the hell had he done to piss Spencer off? He decided to just roll off of it, see if being casual would make Spencer stop being such a pissbaby.

“So I was wondering if you wanted to go to the mall today? You don’t have class, I don’t have work. We could get pizza,” he offered, leaning against the table near where Spencer was. Spencer dropped his crossword on the table and crossed his arms, glaring up at Jon in a way that could only be described as ‘defiant.’ Jon was really confused.

“Won’t your boyfriend be jealous?” he asked. His eyes had changed over and everything. Jon frowned.

“Boyfriend?” he asked. “Spin, James isn’t my boyfriend… we’ve only been on one date,” One date and a makeout session didn’t mean boyfriends. They hadn’t even talked about that. James didn’t even have the right to be jealous at this point… and why did Spencer care anyways?

“Yeah, whatever,” Spencer snapped, standing up and stalking out of the kitchen. Jon followed him.

“Puppy, come on,” he called after him. “James isn’t my boyfriend, I swear. What are you talking about?”

Spencer stopped when they reached their bedroom door and spun around to face Jon, eyes narrowed and canines showing under his lips. “I don’t want to be around you and your stupid face. Leave me the fuck alone,” And with that, Spencer stormed away and slammed the bedroom door behind him. Jon was left in the hallway, feeling really fucking confused. Sometimes Jon remembered that there was a bit of an age gap between eighteen and twenty, that while he himself wasn’t the icon for maturity, Spencer was still slightly less so, and that sometimes he was going to tell Jon his face was stupid and lock him out of his own fucking bedroom, and there really wasn’t anything Jon could do about it. Right. Well.

He sighed and noticed Brendon over his shoulder at the mouth of the hallway. “What B?” he asked.

Brendon fidgeted. “Could you give me a ride to Sarah’s house? It’s okay, if not. I mean. I can walk. It’s only two miles, not that far. I’d skateboard there, but I’m still not that great and she lives in the mountains and skateboarding up a mountain is really difficult cause I fell down the last time I tried and she laughed at me and-”

“Okay,” if Jon didn’t cut him off, he was pretty sure Brendon would keep talking forever. “Okay, yeah, go get dressed,” He was also sure that if he didn’t get out of this apartment, Spencer’s bizarre mopey-cloud was going to drive him crazy. It took Brendon exactly two minutes to scramble into his bedroom and throw on clothes, and Jon used that time to beg Zack to please seriously talk to Spencer he’s absolutely insane fix him Zack please. Zack had given him that look, the ‘I didn’t sign up for this’ look, but he didn’t say no, so he’d probably do it.

 

…  
“Well, I talked to him,” was the first thing that Zack said when Jon reentered the apartment, yawning and kicking his flip flops off at the door. It was getting too late in the fall to wear flip flops and basketball shorts outside, and his legs were freezing. He flopped down bonelessly on the couch, and Zack didn’t shove him away when he leaned into the older man’s shoulder.

“And?”

“He told me my face is stupid…” Zack sounded pretty perturbed by that, and Jon had to chuckle.

“He’s being such a brat,” Jon sighed.

“I told him to go outside and play, and he looked at me like I’m insane. I think he went for a walk somewhere. Seriously though, he’s in a major mood. I think he’s jealous,”

“Jealous?” Jon asked, slouching farther down the couch and trying to crack his back. “Jealous of what?”

“Well, you have a boyfriend now,” Zack offered, and Jon groaned.

“He’s not my fucking boyfriend,” he said. “Since when does one date make people boyfriends?”

Zack didn’t bother answering Jon’s question. “I told him that what he’s feeling is natural, that you two are close because you’re bonded. I mean, you’ve been practically living in each other’s pockets. So I told him that he probably just feels uncomfortable sharing you and that he’ll have to learn to get over it,”

Jon was quiet for a moment while he digested that. It made a lot of sense, and it’s funny that Jon hadn’t been able to think of it himself. But then again, Zack kind of knew everything. It shouldn’t have been too much of a surprise that he figured it out.

“You think that’s what’s going on?” he asked. Zack shrugged.

“That, or he’s just being a bitch,” A startled laugh made it’s way out of Jon’s throat, and Zack grinned. “Yeah, I think that’s what’s going on. You just need to let him get over it, okay?”

Jon was still grinning as he nodded. “Yeah. Alright. Thanks,”

Spencer came back into the apartment shortly after that and glared at both of them before locking himself in his room again. Jon frowned, and Zack just patted him on the shoulder before standing up and going off somewhere. Jon couldn’t decide whether he should try talking to Spencer again or just wait for him to get over himself, since Jon hadn’t done anything wrong and didn’t have anything to apologize for anyways.

A text came in from James reading ‘last nite was cool. again sumtime?’ and Jon told himself that he didn’t have any reason to feel guilty when he grinned down at the message. He felt guilty anyways. He texted back ‘anytime.’

…  
Brendon was flabberghasted, absolutely flabberghasted, by a lot of things about Sarah’s house. For one thing, it was huge. His parents’ house could have easily fit inside of it, probably stacked in with the apartment too, and there would still be a bit of space to crawl around near the ceiling. Brendon’s old house had been half the size and housed eight people, but Sarah’s house only had three- herself, her brother, and her dad.

“What happened to your mom?” he asked, chattering aimlessly and not thinking until too late that Sarah might not want to talk about it, that it might be sensitive, that it wasn’t his place to ask and Sarah was going to get upset and ask him to leave or start crying or something and Brendon was totally an asshole and-

“Divorce,” she shrugged like it was meaningless and trotted up the stairs. Brendon followed her. “They’ve been divorced since I was small, so I don’t even remember them being together. Mom has a boyfriend in Arizona, and I visit her on the holidays,”

Brendon kind of loved how Sarah never got upset about things. She just told it how it was with a shrug or a grin and then kept on going with her life. Brendon wanted to be more like Sarah.

Another amazing thing about Sarah’s house was that he was allowed upstairs, in her room, with the door closed. Nobody came knocking or yelling or inquiring what they were doing up there. They weren’t doing anything besides looking at comic books anyways, but still. That would have never flown at Brendon’s parents’ house, and maybe not even at the apartment. Zack would give them a look, and Jon would make inappropriate faces and hand gestures at them, and Spencer would sit him down later and talk to him about responsible sex, and…. yeah. The freedom at Sarah’s house was nice.

“This one’s my favorite,” she said, waving a comic book in Brendon’s face. She had every x-men book that was ever made, practically, and Brendon wished that he could appreciate it more. He wished that he hadn’t just watched the movies, but actually read the books too.

“Yeah?” he flipped through it and looked at the pictures. The blue guy- Brendon couldn’t remember his name- looked pretty pissed off, but Brendon couldn’t actually take him seriously, because he was blue. And also a cartoon. Like a smurf.

Maybe he didn’t have enough of an attention span for comic book reading….

“So hey,” Sarah was sitting on a purple rolly computer chair in front of her desk, turning back and forth slowly and kicking her sneakers against the hardwood floor. “I was wondering…”

Brendon looked up from her shoes to her face, and she was biting her lip. She sure was pretty. He thought to himself for a moment that maybe there was a chance, that if he tried hard enough, he could have married a girl and been happy. He could have done the do a few times and made grandchildren for his parents and made them proud. Even though the thought of doing anything like that with a girl made him feel like cringing, and he was pretty sure that spending his adult life that way would make him miserable… maybe it would have been worth it to try.

He snapped himself out of his head when Sarah frowned at him. “Well?” she asked, sounding a bit impatient. Oh shit. She must have asked him a question.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I got lost in my head for a second. What’d you ask me?” He had a really bad habit of getting lost in his head. It was the reason he’d gotten a C in freshman history. It was something that used to piss his dad off to no end. It was the reason that he was always forgetting things or getting left behind or missing important scenes in movies. His brain was like a labyrinth. He’d just learned that word in English. They were studying greek mythology.

“I said that there’s a dance at our school,” Sarah said. She was grinning. She didn’t get frustrated when Brendon was being stupid, and that was really nice of her. “On halloween. I was wondering if you’d like to go with me,”

Brendon blinked and tilted his head to the side. “Like a date?” He’d never been to a dance before, let alone a high school dance with a girl. Sure, his daydreams usually included Shia Labuff leaning against his locker with a flower and a prom invitation, but going to a dance with Sarah was practically the next best thing. Practically. Kind of.

“Yeah,” he smiled as he said it. “Yeah, that’d be totally awesome,”

She grinned the way she always did, kind of smug like she knew a secret and wasn’t telling. “Rad,”

Brendon grinned. “Rad,”

  
  
**Chapter 2**

  
  


Brendon was out on the balcony when Spencer found him. His elbows were kind of sore from the way he was propped up on them, and his tummy was cold from the cool concrete below him. He shivered. If he hadn’t been too lazy and too invested in what he was watching, he would have gone inside and gotten a hoodie- one that he’d stolen from Spencer, brown and thick and super comfy, a tad too big on him, but that made it even better, instead of the purple one that he hadn’t bothered giving back to Sarah yet.  There were more important things than preserving body temperature though. At the moment, Brendon had binoculars pressed to his eyes and a clear view of a car in the parking lot.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, and he sounded like he was frowning. Brendon didn’t bother looking up at him.

“Spying on Jon,” he said. With the way Spencer had been acting lately, he expected him to huff and storm away. It was slightly surprising when a warm presence plopped itself down next to Brendon on a balcony and snatched the binoculars out of his hands.

“What’s Jon doing?” he asked. Spencer was warm, so Brendon pressed close into his side. He was going to start shivering soon.

He let Spencer fiddle with the binoculars (which he’d bought at a garage sale for fifty cents while searching for his skateboard) before answering, “Having sex.”

Spencer nearly dropped the binoculars, and Brendon would have been super bummed if he’d dropped them off the balcony. Brendon snatched them back from clumsy Spencer. He was enjoying the show.

“Excuse me?”

“Now I’m not an expert,” Brendon said, peering through his gadget again and twisting them until the picture came into focus. “But either they’re making out, or Jon’s trying to fit himself into James’s mouth.”

“You’re a freak.” Spencer scowled and stole the binoculars back. “Let me see. I can’t believe you’re watching them do this.” Brendon smirked a little bit, because now Spencer was watching them do this too, so.

“Whoa, that’s James?” Spencer inquired.

Brendon rolled his eyes. “Well, if it isn’t, James is going to be awfully bummed to find out.”

Brendon yelped when Spencer smacked him upside the head, and then he shoved him in retaliation. Spencer shoved back, and they did that back and forth for a while until Spencer smooshed Brendon’s face into the floor of the balcony and Brendon gave up.

“Loser,” Spencer said fondly. Brendon pouted at him. “I didn’t know that James was black.”

Brendon lowered the binoculars in order to show Spencer how he was raising his eyebrows at him. “Whoa. Does that matter?”

“What? No. Dude, duh, no of course not. I’m just surprised,” Spencer snapped.

“That Jon has a thing for black guys?” Brendon sneered, and Spencer smacked his head again.

“Stop being a dick, B,” Spencer said. Brendon crossed his arms and frowned.

“Not my fault you’re being moody,” he retorted poutily. He stared Spencer down with his best puppy dog face until Spencer sighed and looked away. Brendon took it as an apology and returned to his spying.

“Holy shit, I think James is giving Jon a blow-”

“Alright!” Spencer interrupted. “That’s enough of that.”

It actually wasn’t. Brendon was curious; he’d never seen two guys making out before, or doing…. other things… for that matter. It was kind of gross since it was Jon, but at this point, he’d take whatever he could get. Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to get to watch anymore, because Spencer grabbed him around the middle and hauled him to his feet. Brendon squirmed, and Spencer tossed him inside the apartment and closed the door behind him.

“Awwwww, Spence c’mon,” Brendon whined while Spencer’s hand in the middle of his back propelled him forward.

“You’re a sicko,” Spencer argued. “Don’t you have a date to get ready for?”

"Oh right!" Brendon chirped. "It's a Halloween dance. Wanna help me with my vampire costume?"

Spencer raised his eyes. "Vampire? Really, B?"

"It's security!" Brendon insisted. "No one will suspect I'm a wolf if I go out dressed like a vampire?"

Spencer rolled his eyes hard and then sighed, sounding like an ill-treated older brother. Brendon had heard that tone a lot in his life.  He was pretty familiar with it. "Fine. Fine, okay, let's go make you pretty."

Brendon smiled and ran down the hall.

…  
The air was crisp against his cheeks, and it would have been nice if it weren’t so windy. It was biting a bit, and Brendon bounced from foot to foot in a sad attempt to get blood flowing and warm himself up. Another gust of wind coming straight down off the mountains made him shiver and close his eyes. He wished Sarah would show up already.

Brendon could have already been inside the school, sure, but upon arriving he’d noticed a problem. You see, Brendon had been under the impression that since it was a halloween dance, the day before halloween, and halloween was the day of costumes, candy, and mischief, that it would be a costume party. That was why he’d spent half an hour in the bathroom with Spencer trying to paint his face white and make his eyes look sunken in. That was why he was sporting a pair of plastic vampire fangs from 7-11 and a navy blue sheet tied around his neck like a cape. That was why he felt like an absolute idiot because not a single other person who had shown up for the dance thus far had been in costume, and they had all given Brendon bemused looks and occasional snickers.

He looked like an absolute moron, and he was probably going to get shoved into a wall or a trashcan or something, so he decided to wait around outside until Sarah showed up. He’d have the courage to go in so long as he wasn’t doing it alone. Besides, nobody messed with Sarah.

When she did show up, it was with Shane in the driver’s seat, and he laughed so loud that Brendon swore they could see him blushing through the inch of white makeup caked onto his face. Sarah punched Shane in the arm, and then draped her arm around Brendon’s shoulders.

“Oh sweetie,” she said, the way she did a lot around him. He didn’t understand it exactly, but it was nice. “You look awesome, don’t listen to him.”

Shane was still laughing pretty hard when Sarah and Brendon followed him into the gym with the rest of the students. Brendon mentioned going to the bathroom to try and clean the gunk off his face, but Sarah said not to bother. She said he looked good.

He ended up sweating most of it off anyways. The thing was, Brendon was a very passionate dancer. He could dance to practically anything, even when Shane had grabbed Brendon’s hips and started grinding against him. Brendon laughed hysterically and went with it. He decided that school dances were the most amazing things ever.

They were off to the side, sitting up against the bleachers. Brendon was rolling a luke warm can of coke between his hands while Shane chugged a water bottle. There was some hip hop song playing which none of them were familiar with, so they took a break while Sarah went over to talk to her other friends.

“Sarah looks hot tonight,” Shane said offhandedly. “I mean, I know she’s our bro, but damn.”

Brendon frowned. “What? Really?” He hadn’t exactly taken notice. He was too busy wondering what Shane was doing over here with _Brendon_ and not with his cool senior friends across the gym.  Maybe they all had dates or something.  Maybe his friends were too cool for dances, and Shane was only there to humor Sarah.  And sure, Sarah looked pretty, but she always looked pretty.

“That dress is cleavage central.” Shane was staring across the gym pretty obviously, and Brendon felt embarrassed for him as he blushed and ducked his head.

“I didn’t notice.”

“Dude, are you fucking blind?” Shane laughed and ruffled Brendon’s hair. Brendon frowned and raked his fingers through it to push it back. He looked somewhat like vampire Elvis, but he kind of liked it and wanted to keep it that way.

“Hey guys.” Sarah came skipping over as the song changed, this one slow and sweet. Some kind of love song. “Bren, come dance with me.”

“What?” Brendon had to stand up when her hand latched onto his and pulled. He tripped after her as she made her way onto the dance floor. “But this is a slow song,” he said.

“Uh huh.” She went further, towards the back corner.

“But this is for couples,” he argued.

“Not necessarily. Here, give me your hands.” He didn’t actually have to give her his hands; she just took them and put them where she pleased, on her hips. He’d never touched a girl’s hips before. Actually, he’d never touched anyone’s hips before while actually thinking about what he was doing. She looped her arms around his neck, which was easy since they were just about the same height. Brendon felt all slimey, and kind of awkward with her standing this close in front of him.

“But I’m sweaty,” he said, in a last ditch attempt. She rolled her eyes and put her hand over his mouth.

“Shut up and dance.”

He couldn’t exactly call what they were doing dancing. They were just kind of swaying while slowly turning in circles, trying not to trip over each other’s feet or lose their balance. Sarah laughed whenever Brendon almost fell over, and he laughed when some of her hair fell in front of her eyes and she tried to blow it back out of the way.

They stopped turning when Sarah brought her hand down to push her hair back. Brendon wasn’t sure why, and he was even more confused when she placed her hand on the side of his face. He was all sweaty and covered in makeup; why would she want to touch that? He was about to ask, but then suddenly she was right there, and her mouth was on his, and Brendon was pretty sure that they were kissing.

Kissing. Huh. Brendon had never kissed anyone before.

He’d heard about all the special things it was supposed to be; about fireworks and butterflies and the world stopping and the stars lining up. In reality, it was kind of awkward, just their lips pressed together, and he tried not to breathe because he was embarrassed about her being able to feel it. He wasn’t sure why. When she pulled back from the kiss, however, she was smiling pretty big at him. He, in his confusion, smiled back.

“What?” he asked, and she smirked at him.

“Oh nothing.”

The dance was over pretty quickly after that.

 

…  
When they asked Brendon to come hang out with them afterwards he said yes, even though Spencer had told him to call once the dance was over so that he could come and pick him up. Brendon figured that Spencer didn’t really want to be bothered with him anyways. Outside the dance, he and Sarah kissed a bit bashfully while leaning against Shane’s car, waiting for him to finish talking to his friends, who were apparently actually at the dance, so they could go. She would lean in and peck his lips and then giggle, and Brendon could help but giggling back nervously. He’d do the same, lean in for a kiss, because he was pretty sure that’s what she wanted him to do, what he was supposed to want to do. He kind of felt like he was just going through the motions.

He sat in the backseat on the drive to her house, and Sarah held his hand between the seat and the door.

 

…  
“Where the hell is he?” Spencer demanded angrily, pacing in the kitchen with his hands on his hips. “He said he would call me to come get him, and he hasn’t called, and he’s not answering his phone.”

“Zack says-” Zack had gone to work, but it was apparently slow enough that he could be on his phone, so Jon was talking to him. “-that you’re getting a taste of your own medicine, and maybe now you’ll think twice before disappearing.”

“Well Zack can go fuck himself,” Spencer growled. Jon raised an eyebrow at Spencer from his position lounging at the kitchen table, feet kicked up and ankle’s crossed. He held the phone defensively to his chest.

“For your own well-being, I’m not going to tell him you said that,” Jon said. He listened in the phone for a moment. “Maybe he’s out with friends,” he reiterated. “Calm the hell down.”

Spencer growled again, and Jon rolled his eyes hard. “Yeah Zack, thanks, I’ll let you know when we find him.”

He understood why Spencer was freaking out to a point. Brendon was a little guy; he was clumsy; he hadn’t worn his glasses; and to be completely honest, the kid was a little bit of a ditz. There was lots of trouble that a kid like Brendon could get himself into at night. At the same time though, it was Brendon, who was probably too innocent to get himself into any real trouble. Jon wasn’t too worried.

“That’s it,” he declared, standing up and wrapping his arm around Spencer’s neck. “You need to chill.” He trapped Spencer in a headlock and dragged him over to the couch, where he eventually managed to wrestle Spencer into a horizontal position and sprawl out on top of him, despite Spencer’s loud complaining and growling and flailing.

“We’re going to lay here and watch Paranormal Activity and wait for Brendon to call, and if he hasn’t called by the time the movie is over, by midnight, then we’ll worry, okay?”

Spencer didn’t acquiesce, just made a grumpy noise, but he stopped trying to get free, so Jon shifted until he was spooned up behind him and turned on the movie. In retrospect, if he had known that Spencer didn’t like horror movies, he would have just turned on South Park, but at least the puppy was hiding behind a pillow instead of ripping it in half. Jon counted it as a win.

 

…  
The mountain roads were a bit treacherous, and they took slightly more focus than Zack was usually willing to put into driving at one in the morning, but he’d rather contribute the extra energy than have his fifteen year old spazz ball walking several miles home in the dark. Surprisingly enough, the spazz ball was relatively calm when he climbed into the passenger side of the car and buckled up.

“Hey,” Zack greeted him. “Everything okay?”

What had once been pretty cool vampire makeup was now smudged and indecipherable. His hair was sticking out in all directions, and he looked exhausted.

“Uh huh,” Brendon nodded, then he yawned and rubbed at his eyes. Zack started the drive home.

“How was the dance?” he asked.

“Good,” Brendon said. “Lots of fun, except I smell really gross now. And I have a girlfriend.”

Zack frowned and looked at him. “Really?” he asked. He was surprised. He was almost certain that… well damn. He’d just lost a bet with Pete Wentz. He had to stop gambling with fairies.

“Uh huh,” Brendon said again. “Sarah kissed me when we were dancing, and then we kissed some more, and now she’s my girlfriend.”

“Huh…” Zack said. He wasn’t sure what he was expected to say to that.

“It’s wrong to kiss before marriage though…” Brendon was frowning, and Zack sighed.

“It’s not wrong, Brendon,” he said. “Kissing isn’t as complicated as other things. It’s fine.”

Brendon shrugged before grinning. “Well that’s good then... My parents sure would have been happy to know I have a girlfriend now.”

Zack wasn’t sure how to respond to any part of this conversation, really, but by the time he thought of something to say, Brendon was curled up in a ball and fast asleep, cheek smushed against the passenger door. The kid was the heaviest sleeper Zack had ever met, and he didn’t stir at all when they got to the apartment and Zack tried to wake him up. After a minute of failed attempts, he sighed and picked him up to carry him inside. Brendon was little anyways and didn’t weigh anything. He tucked Brendon into bed, figuring that he could just shower in the morning rather than risk falling asleep in the process now, and Brendon was snoring before Zack even got out of the room.

 

…  
Jon woke up early, to which Spencer griped at him that he was insane, words muffled into a pillow.

“It’s our day off,” the younger wolf had practically whined when Jon leapt onto him as a 7 am wake up call. Against his better judgment, Jon tried to tickle Spencer out of bed, resulting in lots of complaining and a fiery wrestling match. They fell off the bed with a solid thump, and Jon got punched in the jaw. He swore, holding the sore area, but at least Spencer smelled sorry under the grumpy it’s-too-early-for-this-shit scowl.

The floor jumped when something, probably a broom handle, knocked against the ceiling of the apartment below. “Shut up! Shut up!”

Good mood faltering none, Jon grinned as he stood and ruffled Spencer’s hair. “Chop chop, puppy,” he said. “Daylight’s a’waistin.”

“You’re insane,” Spencer repeated as he slowly picked himself off the floor, as if her were an old man and not young and limber. He kept his arms crossed defensively over his chest as if he were afraid Jon was going to try to tickle him again. Jon didn’t plan on it. His jaw was aching from that fly-away fist, and he rather liked talking and eating solid foods.

Jon wasn’t as insane as Spencer accused, just a morning person when given the right prompting. If he roused early enough to see the beginnings of a beautiful sunset out his window, he’d often head out immediately with his camera and a pair of flip flops, still in his pajamas. Sometimes he just got the urge to grab a silent cup of coffee and hang out in the peace of the still-dozing apartment. But this morning wasn’t caused by a whim or a toe tingling sunrise. This was better.

Spencer had been a royal pain in the ass for a while now, and while Jon had a great deal of patience most of the time, he had trouble following Zack’s advice to just 'wait it out.'  He was tired of biting comments and tense energy, so when, on the third time that he’d asked Spencer to hang out with him, the puppy said yes instead of coming up with a lame excuse, Jon was overjoyed. He’d missed hanging out with Spencer.

Half an hour found both boys in the kitchen, still damp and slightly drippy from showers, but fully dressed. Spencer was in a better mood at least, stretched out at the mail-cluttered kitchen table with a cup of coffee in his hand, grinning and shrugging thoughtfully when Jon asked what he wanted to do. They settled on the mall eventually. The coffee added to Jon’s hype, and instead of his normally calm composure, he found himself almost bouncing, fingers tapping against the side of his coffee cup, over the faded green picture of a pine tree and the words “Northwest Lumber.” Jon had no idea where the cup had come from. Probably Goodwill.

“Geez, calm down, _Brendon_ ,” Spencer teased, smirking lips pressed to his coffee cup. Jon laughed and felt his stomach flip. He refused to believe that it was butterflies. He wasn’t a total girl, thank you very much.

Speak of the devil- “What?” Brendon asked as he came shuffling into the kitchen, somewhat greasy hair jutting out from his head in all directions, eyes squinty from sleep and ringed with shadows. He didn’t smell that great, but Jon decided not to mention it. Spencer on the other hand…

“Dude, B. Deodorant is your friend. Or like, bathing,” he chided. “I know we’re half dog, but we’re not actually supposed to want to smell like it.”

Jon expected Brendon to snipe back or growl or even look embarrassed, but he just shrugged and shuffled over to the coffee maker. Jon frowned.

“What are you doing today, Bren?” he asked, earning another shrug.

“Sarah wants me to hang out with her and Shane and some dudes at the school today, practice skate stuff or something by the stairs.” On a normal day Brendon lived for that stuff, but at that moment he sounded bored and put upon, burdened even.  “I’m not super up for it,” he explained. “Just kind of want to sleep forever, but I promised, so.”

Spencer was frowning now too, which made sense. Spencer had this sort of soft spot for their youngest pack member, always checking up on him and trying to comfort him when he was upset and stuff. Jon didn’t entirely understand their dynamic- Spencer wasn’t an alpha or anything- but just figured Spencer was the kind of person that liked taking care of others and left it at that.

“You know you don’t have to go out if you don’t feel like it,” Spencer said seriously. He had that face on, the ‘something is wrong and I’m going to fix it’ face.

Brendon wasn’t looking at Spencer’s face. Instead he was putting all of his focus into adding sugar into the cup of coffee he’d claimed. Jon decided to not mention that either, let Zack deal with it.

“I promised,” Brendon repeated.

“B….”

“I’m _fine_ , Spencer,” the kid snapped, catching both of the older boys off guard. Brendon looked as surprised as they were. He deflated, and his voice softened. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, Spence.” He ruffled Spencer’s hair and kicked him in the ankle when he sat at the table next to him.

Spencer looked about to argue, but Jon really didn’t want it to become that kind of day. He tugged Spencer up from the table with his hand around his upper arm and said, “If you say so. Can you tell Zack we took the car?”

Brendon nodded and that was all Jon needed before pressing a kiss to the top of the puppy’s head and pulling Spencer towards the door. It took them a moment to get their shoes on (or, it took Spencer a moment. Jon just slid into flip flops, icy early-November weather be damned. He wanted to wear them as much as he could before the snow came, and at least it wasn’t as cold in Colorado as it was in his hometown Chicago).

Just as they were closing the door behind them Jon heard Zack’s voice saying, “That had better be the first and last cup of coffee. One cup limit. I’m serious, Brendon.”

Spencer laughed, and Jon’s stomach flopped again (It was just from coffee on an empty stomach. Really. That’s all). He bumped his and Spencer’s shoulders together as he twirled his car keys around his finger, and the two of them headed for the car.

It was snowing outside, almost enough to be a white out. Jon let Spencer drive since he was making that face again. He was pretty sure it would kill Spencer to have to sit in the passenger seat while Jon drove, since Jon tended to drive a bit hectically despite the weather outside. So he lounged in the passenger seat, using his willpower to not shiver, because there was no way he was admitting that he shouldn’t have worn flip flops that day. Anyone who said otherwise could suck it.

With Spencer driving carefully, it took them half an hour to get to the mall when it usually took Jon twenty minutes. He didn’t mind though. When Spencer pulled into a parking space, Jon pulled the collar of his shirt up around his ears and just about ran inside. It was fucking cold. Spencer laughed and trotted after him.

“You wouldn’t be so cold if you wore real shoes,” Spencer said once they’d made it inside, where they took a moment to shake snowflakes from their hair.

“Suck it,” Jon growled at him, always a man of his word. Spencer just smiled and wandered away, meaning that Jon had to jog to catch up with him.

After two hours of browsing (Spencer spent an impressive amount of time in a shoe store, and he probably would have stayed longer, but he’d submitted and let Jon drag him away when he said his friend started to 'look crazy in the eyes' whatever the hell that meant) which involved a shoe store, the cd store, lids (the place with all the hats), Spencer’s (for irony, of course), and Claire’s (just for kicks), they realized that they were both hungry from having not eaten breakfast and wandered in the direction of their favorite pizza place, just to see if it was open. By some strange accident, it was. Spencer wondered aloud why any italian restaurant would be open at ten in the morning, but Jon just nudged him and told him not to look gift horses in the mouth.

“You sound like my mom.” Spencer rolled his eyes and went up to the counter to order their food. Same as always, two slices of awful, greasy pizza and one can of coke. It made Jon smile, for sentimental reasons or something stupid like that. He’d stop it if he could.

He didn’t stop smiling the entire time they ate, which didn’t take very long; they were starving wolf boys, after all. Spencer didn’t stop smiling either, in fact, until they exited the pizza place and wandered back towards the center of the mall. Noise of other patrons picked up, and Spencer was laughing loud over the din over some stupid joke Jon just told, and that’s when Jon heard someone calling his name.

“Jon! Hey, Walker!” He turned and looked, just in time to see James fall into step with them, arm slipping around Jon’s shoulders because he’s the taller one. James kissed his cheek, saying an easy, “Hey babe,” and for some reason, Jon was embarrassed. He didn’t know why. It probably had something to do with the way Spencer fell silent next to him, stony expression replacing what had just been a smile.

“This is your roommate, right?” James asked, looking over Jon’s head at Spencer. Jon felt incredibly uncomfortable standing between two guys who were tall enough to look over his head. It made him want to squirm.

“Yeah, this is Spencer. Spin, this is James,” Jon said.

James held his hand out to Spencer, who didn’t give any indication that he was going to shake it. They had stopped walking. “Nice to meet you,” James said, and after too long of a moment, when Spencer still hadn’t shaken his hand, James let it fall to his side, something like anxiety seeping through his skin. If James were a wolf, Jon would have nuzzled him to make him feel better.

“Hm,” Spencer said, grumpily.

“Spence,” Jon hissed quietly, trying to portray ‘stop being an asshole,’ but Spencer seemed to be ignoring the message.

“Y’know, Jon hasn’t told me too much about you,” James said, and that was a lie. Jon was pretty sure he’d told James everything about Spencer. Or at least, he’d been meaning too. They’d had a few dates which had been more than making out. Plenty of time to talk.

Spencer’s eyes turned fiery. “Well I’ve had the pleasure of hearing all about you.” The sarcasm in the kid’s voice was sharp enough that Jon felt it stab him right in the gut. This was awful. It was like he was watching a building detonate in slow motion.

“That’s sweet,” James decided to ignore the sarcasm, which could have been a good or a bad thing. It turned bad when he ducked his head and kissed the corner of Jon’s mouth, saying “Thanks babe,” because it sent Spencer off.

“Oh my God!” Spencer said, balling his hands into fists at his sides.

“Spencer,” Jon repeated, a bit sterner to try and get him to shut the fuck up. “Knock it off.”

His eyes widened, like he couldn’t believe Jon or something, when really Jon was the one in disbelief. “Fine,” Spencer snapped, obviously trying not to growl. “Hope you have a wonderfully gay time on your fucking date. Don’t forget to use a condom when you’re having car sex,” and then Spencer was storming away. Jon wanted to run after him, but James’ arm was strong around his shoulders, somewhat holding him there while he gaped after Spencer.

“What the hell is his problem?” James asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jon grumbled.

“Seriously, he’s such a whiny little kid. I don’t know why you put up with him.”

Jon quickly found himself getting angry, and he didn’t want to be angry. Spencer’s negative energy was affecting him or something. He shrugged James’ arm off of him.

“Whatever,”

“Whoa…” his boyfriend was watching him carefully with narrowed eyes now. “Sorry…?” And Jon hated when people felt like that, upset or unsure because of something he had said or done. He couldn’t help Spencer throwing a hissy fit because he hadn’t done anything. But he couldn’t take it out on James. That was something he could control.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Things have been weird.”

“Yeah… I can tell… You want to walk around for a while?”

Jon sighed and nodded, letting his hand slip into James’ larger one, warm and dry. It was a nice fit, but not perfect. Jon had trouble imagining this fling turning into a forever type arrangement; too many things were slightly off kilter. For now, though, that wasn’t important. He could just let James distract him from the migraine forming behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”

 

 

…  
Brendon was moping at the kitchen table, tying his shoes very slowly and looking sullenly at the ground, which Zack didn’t understand, since he couldn’t get the kid to talk about it. It was infuriating, really, but he was learning to hold his temper with Brendon. He didn’t like the way the kid flinched and hid when Zack snapped or started yelling. Besides, this was nothing to yell over. Maggie (that was Jon’s mother in Chicago, who had been Zack’s alpha for a long time. Zack had been there as Maggie raised all three Walker boys and plenty of other young strays who wandered into her home) would have given him that look, as if he were one of her kids and not a mature grown up, and told him to cut the boy some slack, teenagers went through moods, let him come to you first, and all sorts of other advice she was licensed to give when it came to raising children. Still, it would be really nice if Brendon would just talk to him).

Insistent knocking broke Zack out of his thinking spell. He glanced up from the club paperwork he had displayed on his laptop, to the door and then to Brendon who hadn’t moved a single muscle, before sighing

“I got it,” he said, pushing himself up. Brendon still didn’t say anything. What the hell.  A glance through the peephole revealed someone short, dirty, and blonde. Zack knew who it was immediately, but the only question was how the hell he got in, considering the buzzer had never gone off.

“Hey,” he said, opening the door and stepping aside to let the boy in. The kid glanced around quickly, eyes shifting and shoulders stiff near his ears, before shuffling into the apartment. “What’s up?”

Brown eyes darted around the apartment, from Brendon at the kitchen table, to Zack, to the wall, to Zack, to the floor, and back to Zack once again.

“I…” the kid started, squirming a bit under his skin and dropping his head again. “I need something to eat. Can you help?”

“Sure,” he answered immediately, going to the kitchen. The kid didn’t make any move to follow him, but Zack figured he would come when he was ready to. The boy smelled awful, like unwashed teenager and dirt and somewhat like blood. Like a dumpster too, sort of. But when Zack looked past all of that, all he could smell was a child who was scared out of his wits and probably hadn’t slept in a week.

“What would you like to eat?” he asked.

The reply came, “Anything,” and then closer, as the kid crept cautiously into the kitchen and sat in the chair closest to the exit. “Anything. It doesn’t have to be much. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about that,” Zack said, looking through the fridge for anything that he could feed a starving kid. He found four boxes of leftover chinese food, rice and chicken and shrimp, the whole nine yards. He decided to start with that, dumping it all into a big bowl and popping it into the microwave. “Do you want to take a shower?”

There was a moment of hesitation before quick nodding. “Yeah. Yeah sure. I know where the towels and stuff are from last time.”

“Alright,” Zack said. “Just yell if you need something.”

The boy darted out of the room, and it was only then that Brendon stood up and tugged a hooded sweatshirt on. “I’m going to hang out with Sarah and them,” he said, but his voice sounded flat and off, the same as his posture looked and the rest of him smelled.

“Are you okay?” Zack asked.

Brendon nodded.

“Do we need to talk about anything, Bren?” he tried again. It was obvious that something wasn’t okay, but it was impossible to get Brendon to talk about it, whatever it was. He didn’t know any details about what Brendon’s home life had been like before, but he had a feeling that the kid thought he was supposed to suppress his emotions or something. Zack had no idea how to convince him otherwise, or how to breach any of the delicate conversations he knew they were eventually going to have.  He was a  _guy_ , like... a manly guy.  He didn't know how to have these kinds of conversations.

All he knew at the moment was that Brendon was acting weird, the way he did sometimes which always made Zack worry, and that the apartment had smelled faintly like blood the night before, which Zack still didn’t understand and wasn’t sure he wanted to. He didn’t know how to take care of all these messed up little kids. He kind of wished that Maggie was there to tell him what to do.

“I’m okay,” Brendon said, “Promise. I’ll be back before dinner,” and with that he pulled on a hat, grabbed his skateboard, and walked slowly out the door. Zack frowned after him until the microwave started beeping, and he set the too-hot bowl on the kitchen table. A minute later the blonde haired kid came back into the kitchen, smiling shyly as he sat down in front of the giant steaming bowl of food.

“Thanks.”

“What’s your name?” Zack asked. “I'm Zack.”

The boy talked around large mouth fulls of food. “Zack’s a cool name.”

“What’s yours?” Zack prompted, but the boy just shrugged. “You don’t have a name?” Of course the kid had a name, but it was just prompting. If they were going to be seeing so much of each other, they might as well know how to refer to each other.

“It’s not important,” the boy said. “Not yet.”

Not yet. Zack only wished he could figure out what the kid meant like that, but he just nodded and let the kid finish his food in peace. Before he could ask if he needed anything else, the boy shook his head and ran out the door. There was really no telling when he’d be back.

 

…  
They walked around for a while longer, but Jon couldn’t stop feeling tense and on edge. James might not have had wolf senses, but he wasn’t an idiot. He could totally tell that something was wrong, and Jon felt like an asshole for ruining his day.

“Hey,” James said, hand gentle and barely there on Jon’s arm, making him feel like he was going to burst out of his skin. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he feel so mean?  “Let’s go get coffee, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jon said, and he followed James to the coffee place (a different one than where he worked. There was probably a company policy against this. Starbucks would kill him for tyranny when he went in for his next shift) even though he had a feeling that caffeine wasn’t going to help him feel less jittery.

The coffee shop was small and dark. It smelled different than he was used to, slightly more bitter or slightly less so, he couldn’t tell. He lagged behind a bit while James went to the counter and ordered for both of them. He didn’t really mind James ordering for him, even though he might want tea instead of coffee, or even water, but it was too late now.

There was a cork board on the wall where the sugar and napkins and such were held, much like at Starbucks. Jon stared at a chip in the pain for a moment, light yellow peeking out from under dark brown, before scanning the board. There were the typical items- flyers for music events, a few about a film festival (Jon took one of those), some other stuff that didn’t catch his attention at all, a notice about global warming, and lastly, a small sticker secured to the corner of the board with the edge barely peeling up from being picked at. The sticker showed an emblem that Jon hadn’t seen anywhere off the internet since he left Chicago: a grey full moon with a black peace sign scrawled on top of it. Words below the picture read “Wolf Rally ‘13 NYC” and Jon smiled at it. He’d been to a wolf rally once when he was a teenager in Chicago. His mom had said no, absolutely not, but Jon and his brother snuck out and went anyways. The rally didn’t last very long, and it wasn’t much of a success. Hunters had shown up, and then cops had shown up, and he and his brother had narrowly escaped getting arrested. Their parents hadn’t been very happy with them that night….

“Hey.” James’ shoulder bumped gently against Jon’s when he came over and set their coffees down on the small counter. “What are you looking at?”

Jon couldn’t tell James about wolf things, so it wouldn’t make sense that he was staring at a grungy sticker with such nostalgia. Nonetheless, he picked up his coffee and took a sip (more bitter, definitely more bitter) and then motioned to the sticker with his coffee.

“Wolf rally thing. Pretty cool.” Just because he couldn’t come out didn’t mean he couldn’t pretend to be a mortal bemused by wolf things. Plenty of mortals were interested in wolf things. There were packs of dumb mortal kids running around at night and harassing wolves to bite them so they’d change over. It was a fad (at least Jon hoped it was), and it would probably fade soon.

James, to Jon’s total surprise, put on a sour expression and rolled his eyes hard. “It’s selfish, really,” he said.

Jon frowned, looking at him. “What is?” Sure, it was a bit rude for someone to stick that thing to the board, since it took up a few inches of board space and wouldn’t be coming off without a bit of damage, but it really wasn’t a big deal.

“All I’m saying is that gays were here first. We’re so close to getting marriage in all fifty states, and then these hairy weirdos waltz in and steal the whole spotlight. I mean… they could have waited, right? They’ve been hiding for the past thousand years. Let them hide a bit more.”

Jon felt a sickening twist in his gut. It was the same one he felt when he first heard a gay slur in high school. The same one he’d felt when his mother told him about hunters, or when he’d heard older kids in the house telling stories about how their parents had reacted to them being changed. He was so filled with the question ‘how can anyone be that ignorant?’

He raised an eyebrow at James. “You know that’s the same shit people say about gays, right? ‘Why’d they have to come out of the closet?’ ‘They were already hiding. Why don’t they stay there?’ ‘They just want the attention.’ It’s all bullshit.”

“Dude,” James said, and Jon had the overwhelming urge to growl at him but didn’t. “What the hell? They’re disadvantaging us.  You get that, right? Think we’ll get anymore equality in this state with those freaks running around?”

Jon shook his head back and forth slowly. “Whatever.”

They both dropped silent, standing close but not looking at each other, neither touching their coffee. The air around them was tense, and the scent made the hairs on the back of Jon’s neck bristle. It wasn’t fur, at least, just human hair. He had plenty of practice controlling his wolf side.

After a long, painful minute, James finally sighed. “I’m sorry, okay?” he asked. “Didn’t know you were an advocate. Are we cool?”

Jon didn’t look at him but nodded. Cool? Yeah, not really. He had already figured this relationship wouldn’t be much more than a short fling, but now any chance of a future was shattered. Jon was half wolf. He’d grown up with the wolf culture. He wanted a pack, and puppies, and meat in every meal, and most of all he wanted his significant other to know about his wolf side. He couldn’t have any of that with James. Why lead the guy on?

“It’s cool,” he said.

“Hey, you want to go see that movie next Friday? The new horror movie with the woman that bleeds out her eyes and stuff?” James asked, arm finding its way around Jon’s shoulders.

Jon actually wanted to see that movie pretty badly. “No, uhm.. I think I’m busy.”  He shrugged James’ arm off of him and walked slowly out of the coffee shop. James followed.

“Oh.. okay,” James said. “Saturday?”

“Busy,” Jon said simply. James nodded.

“I’m going to head home then.... I have a lot of stuff to get done, yknow?” James said, and Jon felt kind of relieved that he was leaving. He should probably head out and try to find Spencer anyways, cause God knows the moron didn’t have his cell phone turned on.

“See ya.” They exchanged a quick kiss, and as soon as James started walking away, Jon turned and headed in the opposite direction instead of watching him go. He dumped his coffee in the trash and found his way to the mall entrance that he’d come in. It was practically a blizzard outside. Awesome.

Jon made a mad dash to his car, getting snow everywhere and freezing his ass off.

 

…  
The apartment was pleasantly quiet. No one was arguing or bickering or yelling or squealing or wrestling or accidentally setting off the fire alarm or playing video games too loud or… well, the apartment was pleasantly quiet due to the fact that it was entirely devoid of puppies. Good, Zack thought, grinning to himself. He deserved to have some alone time once in a while.

To celebrate said alone time he vacuumed, just because there was no one currently running around and stirring dust up everywhere. It was nice. He turned up the Smashing Pumpkins on with his stereo (last time he’d done that, Brendon had called it ‘old people music’ and no. Zack was thirty-nine. He wasn’t old, and he didn’t need any teenagers telling him that he was) and went to town.

With the floor finally clean (everything else was tidy.  Spencer had been upset lately, and he seemed to have a nervous cleaning habit. Zack wasn’t going to complain, though. It made the place look nice) he poured himself a rum and coke and relaxed. He was just about to take a sip and turn on Duck Dynasty when Jon burst through the front door.

Well, so much for that. Jon was frowning to himself, which was Jon’s tell that he was upset. He never really exploded when he was upset, didn’t start crying or throw a fit or start sulking. He just frowned. This was concerning, because Jon was generally easy going. He didn’t get upset a lot.

“What’s wrong, jwalk?” Zack asked before taking a sip of his coke. He’d need a bit of booze to get through whatever drama was heading at him.

Jon was just opening his mouth when there was a loud cracking noise, a yelp, and a puff of smoke. Zack wasn’t phased, and Jon just looked curiously. Both of them had stopped being phased by fairies a long time ago.

“Hey Pete,” Zack said, taking another sip of his drink. Yup, peace gone.

“Dude,” Pete said. He had his hand curled around Brendon’s upper arm while the kid swayed on his feet, looking disoriented. “A hunter almost grabbed your puppy.”

Well shit. Zack set his drink down and stood up hastily. He went over to the fairy and put his hand on Brendon’s shoulder. Pete let go.

“B, hey, you okay?” he asked, pushing Brendon’s hair off his forehead and looking at him. His hair was wet and had melting snow clinging to it. It stuck to Brendon’s forehead, and the kid squirmed and pulled back.

“I’m fine,” he said, ducking out of Zack’s grasp and rolling his eyes. Fucking teenagers.

“I was just about to call you when I spotted them,” Pete said, kicked back in the air and floating a few feet above the floor, a distant look clouding his face and telling Zack that the fairy was only partially with them at the moment. “He was heading down the mountain and they were stalking him in the woods, the fucking creeps. They looked pretty fucking confused when he vanished.” Pete was smirking, proud of himself.

Brendon was still standing near him, a bundle of nervous energy that was going to give Zack a headache if he kept focusing on it. The kid was also shivering though, so..

“Go take a hot shower. Why the hell weren’t you wearing a coat?” Zack frowned at the kid, whose eyes immediately dropped to the carpet. Zack sighed. He had to figure out how to stop scaring the kid off.

“Left it at my parent’s house,” Brendon said. “I’m sorry.”

Ah, right. Zack mentally penciled in ‘winter coat’ on his to-do list. “Go shower,” he said, ruffling Brendon’s hair. “And put some sweats on. Jesus. You’re freezing.”

Brendon nodded and ducked away. The bathroom door shut after him with a loud creak. Zack added ‘grease door hinges’ to his list as well. It was pretty extensive. But for now the number one item was ‘deal with hunters.’

“Wait,” Jon said suddenly, and Zack’s attention snapped to him. Pete, who’d had his eyes closed, cracked one open to glance at Jon. “Where’s Spencer?”

Fuck. “I thought he was with you,” Zack said.

“No, he stormed out of the mall hours ago. I thought he came home!” Jon said, voice sounding frantic, which was a big deal when it came to Jon. Jon didn’t do frantic. He did concerned, but he usually never peaked giddy when it came to excitement.

Zack already had his phone out and was calling him. If they’d found Brendon, they’d be able to find Spencer. There weren’t a whole lot of werewolves in town, a dozen at most. Pete had probably warned everyone already, so the only one dumb enough to be wandering around town was- “God damn it, Spencer, answer your phone,” Zack growled out, punching the ‘end call’ button and redialing.

“I’m looking for him,” Pete said, legs folded underneath him where he hovered and fingers pressed to his temples.

After four rings there was finally an answer. Spencer’s voice came over the speaker, and the background was loud. “What?”

“Where are you?” Zack asked. He heard a sigh.

“I’m out,” Spencer responded. “What do you want?”

“Tell me where you are; I’m coming to get you,” he said. “There’s hunters in town and you need to get home.”

“I can get myself home,” Spencer snapped, and Zack ground his teeth. This damned kid.

“Spencer. Tell me where you are. Pete can come get you, even. It’s not safe out there.”

“Fuck you,” Spencer growled out, rumbling deep in his throat, and if he’d been in person and not on the phone, Zack wasn’t sure he would have been able to keep himself from strangling him. As it was, his phone was going to break if he squeezed it any harder. He made himself take a deep breath and count to ten in his head. Jon was watching him with giant eyes, so Zack frowned at him and waved him off. Jon just raised an eyebrow. Fucking disobedient puppies… Zack was going to kill all of them.

“Are you in town?” Zack asked.

“No.”

Somewhere in the background, Zack heard a voice yelling ‘That vamp is so wasted!’ followed by loud cheering. Well, that cleared up a thing or two. Leave it to vampires to take advantage of the cloudy day just to get drunk at 2 p.m.

“You’re at Alex’s,” Zack accused, and he was seriously going to kill Spencer as soon as he got his hands on him. Not only was Spencer out when hunters were stalking around, but he was out and refusing to cooperate and in a place filled with supernatural activity. A hot spot. Alex had better shut down for the night before he had every hunter in town pounding on his door.

It took Spencer a second too long to respond, “No,” and it entirely gave him away.

“Stay where you are.” Zack hung up and shoved his phone into his pocket, grabbed his coat at the door, shoved his feet into shoes. He had to go get Spencer, and he was safe to drive. He’d had two sips of rum and coke, but he was a big guy. It would take a hell of a lot more to intoxicate him. “Don’t let anyone in, you got me?” he said to Jon, who nodded silently, and then he was out the door. In the car. Driving down the road. It was going by in a rush, eyes scanning and adrenalin making his blood pound in his ears, because as much as Spencer was an annoying little shit, he was only annoying because Zack cared about him. If he got taken…

That wasn’t going to happen. Zack swerved into the parking lot behind Alex’s place and slammed the car into park. He barely noticed the freezing wind as he marched to the front door. No one suspicious was in sight, and he didn’t smell any garlic, but Pete had said they were in town, and the town wasn’t very large. It wouldn’t take them long.  He went inside, pushing past a spirit who was leering at him. He made a beeline to the bar where Alex was standing there, hip cocked, towel swirling inside a glass that he was cleaning. He didn’t waste any time with formalities.

“Hunters are in town,” Zack said, causing Alex’s eyes to widen. He set the glass down with shaking hands. “You’ll want to close up. Have you seen Spencer?”

Alex nodded and pointed with his towel. “In that corner. Before you get pissed, I didn’t give him that beer, the girl he’s talking with did, and she’s legal. I don’t have any authority if he doesn’t buy it himself.  I don't mess with wolves, man.”

Right. “Thanks,” Zack snapped and then headed over. Spencer was sitting at a table in the corner, and there was a girl leaning in close to him, hand on the back of his chair. She was obviously older than him, twenty-five at least, if Zack had to guess, with a tank top hanging too low for decency. She must have been freezing.

Spencer had a beer bottle to his lips, but Zack knew the exact moment Spencer saw him because the kid’s eyes grew wide as saucers and he sputtered, spitting beer back into the bottle and almost dropping it, as if he couldn’t believe Zack was there, as if Zack hadn’t just talked on the phone with him.

“Beer, huh?” Zack said, frowning at him. “Say goodbye to your friend, we’re leaving.”

Spencer went from shocked to blushing to pissed off in three seconds flat, glaring at Zack hard and crossing his arms. His body language screamed ‘I’m not listening to you.’

“No,” Spencer said. “I’m staying here.”

“I didn’t realize I gave you an option,” Zack said, whatever reserve of patience he had quickly dwindling away. “There are hunters outside, Brendon and Jon are back at the apartment, and Alex is about to close this place down. We’re leaving.”

“ _You’re_ leaving,” Spencer growled back. “I’ll go home when I’m ready. Fuck off.”

“That had better be the beer talking.” Zack felt his teeth shifting and tried to repress it, which got increasingly harder when Spencer scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“That is it.” He reached around the young lady and pulled Spencer’s chair back himself, jerking the kid a bit as he tried to keep his balance. “Last chance.”

“That won’t fucking work on me,” Spencer said, crossing his arms tight over his chest and glaring. “You can’t boss me around. I’m an adult!”

“I don’t care if you’re eighteen years old or eighty years old.”

Next to him, the girl bristled, mouth falling open. “You’re only eighteen!?” she demanded. “You told me you lost your wallet! Oh my God!” She turned and stomped away, taking the beer bottle with her. How could she have even thought Spencer was twenty-one, with a face like that? No sort of fake ID would fool anyone.

“Thanks a fucking lot,” Spencer growled. “I’m not leaving, and you can’t make me.” Maybe it was his tone of voice, maybe it was the cocky little smirk on his face, or maybe Zack had just run out of patience, but Zack found his hand fisted in the front of Spencer’s jacket and yanking him out of his chair.

“You aren’t even old enough to be in here, let alone to be drinking. Your parents left you in my care, and I am your alpha, so you will fucking listen when I tell you to fucking do something. Do you understand me?”

It was only the tense silence afterwards that made Zack realize he’d been yelling. The entire bar was holding their breath, eyes on him and Spencer. Spencer was holding his breath too, heart pounding out of his chest, frozen. They stayed like that for a tense second until Spencer started squirming, and that’s when Zack realized he’d lifted the kid off the ground slightly, had him up on his tip toes. He let him back down gently so that he wouldn’t fall over, and Spencer smoothed down his clothes as soon as he was free and went back to looking pissed off. Still, Zack could smell a pulse of panic alongside the anger. For a second he wondered if Spencer was going to take a swing at him but nothing happened. Finally, after a breath and a moment to calm himself down, he said, “We’re leaving.”

This time Spencer nodded. He shoved his hands in his pockets and scowled at the floor as he headed for the front door. Zack followed him, ignoring all the eyes boring into the back of his neck. He tried not to feel guilty, telling himself that yelling at the kid wasn’t going to kill him and Spencer deserved it. After a few moments of tense silence on the car ride home, Zack’s attention still darting around while he looked for hunters, Spencer spoke.

“Sorry,” he said, mumbling.

Zack glanced over at him before refocusing on the road. “It’s my job to keep you safe.”

“I know.”

“So when I say you need to come home, you need to come the fuck home. I’m not going to order you around for no reason.”

“I know.”

“Your parents never would have let you speak to them that way-”

“Jesus! I know, okay? Just stop!” Spencer snapped, crossing his arms hard and kicking at the floor of the car. Zack pulled into a parking space and eyed Spencer for a moment.

“Give me your phone,” he said.

“What?” Spencer’s head snapped up. “Why?”

“You’re grounded.”  He was taking a page out of Maggie Walker’s book. “You want to go somewhere? You come and ask me first, because you know you’re not allowed to leave the house without your phone. For the next two weeks you’re going to class and that’s it, you understand me? Now give me your phone.”

Spencer stared at him, mouth hanging open in disbelief before he clenched his jaw and snarled, “Fine.” He wrestled his phone out of his pocket and smacked it down into Zack’s hand, then got out of the car, slammed the door behind him, and stormed into the apartment building. Zack watched him go and gave himself a minute to calm down before going inside. Fucking teenagers. Fucking puppies. He had no idea what he was doing.

Zack remembered the hunters and got out of the car, going upstairs to make sure everyone was accounted for. God forbid he was leaving them alone when there were hunters prowling around, because as much as they pissed him off, he was going to do everything in his power to keep them safe.

  
  
**Chapter 3**

  
  


If you've seen one truck stop, you've seen them all. Ryan had seen every truck stop in America practically. Enough that he could really be considered a master on the subject. The Midwest for the most part was all about big and shiny. Illinois, Indiana, Ohio: they all had these stops that stretched over the interstate, filled with a McDonald's, a Starbucks, a Walgreens, and hundreds of irritable families on vacations. Go some place like northern Wisconsin or the Dakotas and truck stops are reduced to three room shacks on the side of some small highway that shows up only when the interstates are too far to reach. He never really liked those much. They creeped him out, and once in South Dakota an aging biker lady in all skin tight leather had grabbed his ass.

He was partial to the south, Kentucky, Tennessee, Missouri, where the showers could almost be considered clean and every truck stop came with a diner and a sweet mom-like lady calling him sweetheart or honey, and telling him he needed to eat more. My heavens child! Those ladies.

Montana might have two dollar grease feasts, but Mississippi had a temporary cure for the homesickness.

Ryan was only okay with being patronized if it was in a southern accent.

It was smart, really, what he was doing. Everyone back home was looking for William, but William didn't exist anymore. His birth certificate read William Ryan Key Jr., but that was at home in his mother's safe under the stairs. The fake I.D. in his pocket, however, said Ryan Key the third. He wasn't himself, and he wasn't his father. He was new, reborn. His mother had believed in rebirth through baptism, but Ryan's had happened when he'd been covered in blood.

Long story.

His mother probably thought he was dead. It was for the best. She didn't need another man failing her. So long as she stayed home and safe, she could keep her normal life and her church groups and Jesus. She had always told him that Jesus would never fail him.

Ryan really loved his mother's obsession with her everlasting soul. In his humble opinion, the people who fraternized in truck stops should really look into adopting a religion. Ryan didn't care how many days they let him hitch a ride in their cab, he wasn't sticking any god damned crusty old cocks in his mouth. He may have been a homo, but he had standards despite what his mother thought about the matter. He hoped that man whose balls he bit turned into a werewolf. He was ready a disgusting monster. He deserved it.

Ryan was the mind of person who prayed when no one was paying attention. He wasn't into the bravado and the traditions and the early Sunday mornings, not the way his mother was. He still kind of missed it though.

He got like this when he got tired. He'd get all family and just say anything. In the homeless camp he'd been a part of for two weeks in New Orleans (just mortals, no wolves. He may have been one but he didn't want to associate with people who actually accepted the sick condition) there was a tranny named Jared. Jared always got kind of pissed off when Ryan stayed up too late talking to the stars.

The place he found to squat at in Colorado was a lot like the camp in Louisiana, just colder and lonelier. He'd stolen a quilt from someone's clothes line in their back hard and set it down on the floor of someone's abandoned hunting shack. He had his own personal nest, close enough to a small town that he could sneak in and steal/buy (it depended, really) food when he needed to. A case of canned soup from the back of a delivery truck could last him a week.

The thing was, Ryan didn't even know why he was still hanging out in the fucking mountains. He'd ended up there on accident. He'd been in a truck with a man named Ted and his cat, hoping to hitch a ride all the way to Vegas. Why Vegas? Why the hell not? He'd never been there before.

He probably would have made it to Vegas too (Ted was a really good guy, no sick tricks or anything, and he bought Ryan food two days in a row); however, the calendar was not his friend.

He'd been itchy all day long, and when the sun had started to set, his insides has started to burn. He'd been through it enough to recognize what was happening.

"Stop the truck!" He'd practically screamed, causing Johnny B (the cat) to screech and throw herself off Ryan's lap, where she'd been sleeping. She scattered to the back of the cab to hide.

Ted quickly stopped, and Ryan threw himself out of the cab, sneaker slipping on the metal steps and making him hit the asphalt hard. He banged himself up pretty bad, especially since he was already sore from the ass kicking he'd taken in Nebraska. That's where Ted had found him, blood seeping into the dirt parking lot at a Nebraska truck stop. He really owed Ted a better good bye..

Oh well. It's not like he'd had time. He'd had just enough time to peel himself up off the ground and scramble into the nearby woods. He'd barely had the time to drop his backpack and get his pants to his knees when he switched over, inevitably turning into a monster. A werewolf. Same thing.

Either way, taking your clothes off is a whole lot harder when you don't have thumbs, and he'd spent a good ten minutes wiggling and thrashing in the dirt until finally slithering out of his clothes.

That was the night he'd met those freaks. It wasn't like he couldn't sense them wen he came into town. He always could. It usually didn't catch him off guard any more, and he hardly payed any attention to it most of the time. This time he's been surprised from how strong it had been in a town that looked so small as they viewed it from the top of the mountain. He should have known better than to change over with the moon in a place crawling with other wolves. He should have known that while wolves in the cities couldn't afford to be picky about who claimed what, the ones in secluded towns surrounded by woods probably could. But it's not like he could have held it in the way you hold back a piss while waiting for a New Mexico rest stop.

Something about them (the pack, that is) rubbed him the wrong way. They were too nice to him, and it threw him off guard, because when you're a homeless seventeen year hitchhiker there aren't so many people willing to be nice to you.

Except the friendly southern diner ladies.

Except the old truckers willing to pick him up off the parking lot and clean him up.

Except for, apparently, werewolves who found him naked in the woods and decided he needed rescuing.

But Ryan didn't need anyone to take care of him. If he had, he wouldn't have ever run off. He wouldn't have lasted the four months he already had.

Four months.

Damn.

He wondered if his mother missed him.

She probably did, and Ryan felt really bad about that, but there were some decisions you couldn't go back on.

There were some decisions you just couldn't go back on. That's why when Ryan found himself sitting at their kitchen table eating a home cooked meal... He hadn't been in anyone's house since he left home.

He knew himself, and he knew as soon as he accepted the shower and stolen the hoodie before running away that he was going to go back there. Even though they were monsters; evil; the scum of the earth. There was something human about them that he'd never expected to see in these creatures.

That was why he ended up back at that stupid apartment when some pretentious asshole wolf caught him in the wrong place at the wrong time and snapped his arm like a twig. That was why, once the store owners has gotten too close to catching him one too many times and he was starving, he ended up there again begging for a meal.

He really needed to skip town, move someplace else, because apparently Colorado started fucking snowing in fucking November. He needed to go someplace warm like California. Fuck, he at least needed to make it to Las Vegas the way he'd been meaning to in the first place. He needed to get out of there before he got attached. Twenty days was way too long.

It had been almost five months since he left home.

Five months.

Damn.

But Ryan knew himself. He knew there was still some stupidly childish piece of himself that was dreaming of a place to settle down, consistent meals, a bed, maybe someone to help keep him safe.

That was stupid. He didn't need someone to keep him safe. He was fine all on his own.

If he really wanted that then he could go back to his mother's house, his friends, his school, his life. Except that he couldn't. He was dangerous. His mother had told him all about werewolves and the things they did to people. He couldn't let his selfishness get in the way of her safety.

If he'd had the kind of father who warned his family before disappearing, Ryan probably would have heard the 'you're the man of the house now' speech. Even though Ryan had never heard it he intended to live by it. He'd be damned if he let anything hurt his mother, especially himself.

He was protecting her, and if he was mature enough to do that, then he was mature enough to protect himself too.

So while he lay in his nest, shivering while wrapped in two hoodies, a stolen quilt, and an impossible dream that maybe he could have a family again, he also knew that it was a bad idea. Just a stupid thing to think about while he tried to fall asleep at night. Just a stupid childish part of his psyche that he humored when it didn't matter, like telling kids about the Easter bunny.

If the wolf pack he'd found asked him to stay, he'd say yes.

They weren't going to ask him, and that was perfectly okay. He wasn't dumb enough to be upset over something like that.

He hoped they would ask.

He needed to get out of this damn state. It was making him delirious.

"Vegas," he told himself out loud, alone in the woods. He grinned at the situation like a mad man, obviously losing his sense. "Tomorrow we leave for Vegas,"

But he knew himself just as well as he knew truck stops across America, and he knew that he would probably stick around for a while. He tried to dream of neon lights while he fell asleep that night, but his head ended up filled with thoughts of a hot meal, a hotter shower, and the temptation to go knocking on the apartment door as soon as the sun broke over the mountains in the morning.

 

  
  
**Chapter 4**

  
  


The club was nearly empty, and Zack hated nights like that, when there weren’t enough people in the club to make the constant ‘thud thud thud’ of the bass over the speakers feel worth it. Without the people packing themselves onto the dance floor like sardines, swarming around the bar, trying to get at the center like suckling piglets, leaning against walls by the bathroom and eying each other across the the low lit room… It was just weird when empty. It felt like a ghost town.

There was a group of five girls sitting at the table nearest the dancefloor, sipping at incredibly fruity drinks and looking a bit dismayed that there weren’t more guys there to look at. A lone man was sitting at the corner of the bar nursing a beer and glancing at the club’s door every thirty seconds or so. He’d been doing that for an hour, and Zack was starting to feel bad for the guy.

Three boys who couldn’t have been older than Spencer (that is to say, eighteen at most) had gathered near the hall to the bathroom. They were glancing around nervously, obviously waiting to be kicked out or carded. Zack and Trevor had decided they’d let the teenagers hang out a while and would only kick them out when they tried to get their hands on booze, which they were going to. Kids always did.

They’d only gotten in because it was Tuesday, and Tuesday was always slow. Zack didn’t even know why the club stayed open in the middle of the week. They made enough from the weekends to shut down for the rest, but he wasn’t going to complain about the extra money tacked onto his paycheck at the end of the week.

Even so, Tuesdays left the club like a graveyard to the point that they didn't bother scheduling Ted (the bouncer who watched the door, a little guy who's biggest tool for the security business was a loud voice and a take-no-shit attitude), which is why Tuesday was their unofficial underage day. Fucking teenagers.

Around ten p.m. enough people had come in that it wasn't eerie. The teenagers had inched closer to the bar and were staring with wide eyes whenever they thought Zack wasn't looking.  There was a small group on the dance floor. Zack, who was still on edge from the hunters even though Pete had assured him they were out of town, was watching the room with a hawk's gaze. He was pretty sure he smelled a werewolf somewhere in the building, but in the mix of alcohol, sweat, and day old disinfectant, it was too subtle to make out.

"So hey-" A young man who was sporting slicked back hair, a crooked baseball hat, and a tank top leaned on the bar in front of Zack. Defined shoulders and arms, tan skin, and hickey the size of an apple on his neck all screamed 'frat boy.' "So hey, dude, uh. My friend got sick. Kinda like everywhere? In the back, dude. It's fucking sick."

Zack held back a sigh and spoke loudly over the noise of the club. "Does he need an ambulance?"

"Nah man, just like, a mop or something? Puke everywhere."

"Right." College kids were the worst, really. How could someone be this irresponsible and still be considered an adult? Shouldn't they have someone telling them not to do stupid shit, such as get drunk on a Tuesday night and paint the back room in vomit? Where the hell were their brains, or their parents to make up for the lack of sense at least?

"Puke everywhere," the kid repeated.

 "Policy says that you have to leave if someone becomes ill," Zack said, even though that policy didn't exist. This kid wasn't the type to look into it, let alone call the owner to complain or file some kind of lawsuit.

"Bummer, bruh.  Okay." 

Zack took in how the young man was swaying a bit, sweaty and reeking of vodka and redbull.  "Did you drive here?"

"Yeah man."

"Take the bus. Don't drive home like this," Zack told him, and the boy just nodded, nodded, nodded, eyes a bit blank and absent. Tipsy kids were easier to deal with than smashed ones, and most kids were easier to deal with than the adults. This one seemed super cooperative. "Go get your friend. I'll call you a cab. You have twenty dollars?"

"Yeah man."

 "Go get your friend."

The cab was there fifteen minutes later, and Zack watched for a moment out the door while two dizzy young men wrestled a drunk-to-the-point-of-crying friend into the back of a cab. After seeing them go off safely, he went into the back to mop up the mess. Gross.

If there was one smell that Zack hated above all else, it was the smell of vomit. The way it hung heavy and sour in the air and seemed to overwhelm everything. Well, perhaps not everything. Zack still caught the scent when someone came wandering into the back. He'd found the werewolf at least.  
"Sorry ma'am, the bathroom is out of order for a few moments," he said, not looking up from the mop and the mess.

"Good thing I'm not here for the bathroom, then," a female voice replied. Zack frowned and looked up at her.

"Excuse me?" It was a woman, tall standing at 5'9" at least. She had light hair hanging just past her shoulders, loose, and tucked behind one ear to reveal four earrings on the shell of her ear. She was wearing light blue jean overalls over a striped t-shirt, as if she'd been out in the garden and just happened to stumble into a nightclub. Her heavy eye makeup gave her away, though. She was beautiful.

"I've come to find that knights in shining armor hide in the strangest places," she said casually, leaning against the wall.

That was flirting for sure, and Zack wasn't steady on his feet when he came to these kinds of things. The last woman he'd loved had married his best friend. Those things tend to sit with a guy.  "Uhm."

"Thirty-nine year old male werewolf," she said, stepping towards him. It was obviously his turn to be evaluated. "Alpha, obviously. You radiate it. You live in a pack... A young pack? Interesting. You had a few hamburgers for dinner, and you're currently in the back room of a tiny Colorado nightclub mopping up puke." She had stepped closer to him with each word, carefully stepping over the puddle on the floor, and ended up right in his personal space, the only thing keeping her at bay being the mop he held in front of him.

"Nice to meet you too," he said. She grinned. If he hadn't been able to smell the same details on her, he would have been creeped the fuck out. But since he knew she was a wolf he doubted she was a stalker or a hunter.

"How do you feel about coffee?" She asked.

"How do you feel about Friday?" He returned.

She shrugged and stepped out of his space. "I'm busy until next," she said. "But I have the club's number. I'll call you." She smiled at him and then left the back room. Zack stood there for a moment, grinning slightly, before getting back to work. Vomit didn't clean itself.

 

...  
Hands trailed his sides, fingers digging into his hips when they settled there. A mouth on his kissed and licked and bit. Someone's soft hair brushed his cheeks and he put his hands on the small of their back, slipping under their shirt to touch the warm skin of their lower back.

They were just kissing, but then Spencer's brain thought 'more more more,' and there was more. He felt someone pushing down against him, himself thrusting up desperately, writhing, kissing, a hand coming down and cupping him between the legs.

The girl's other hand left his hip and was now pinning both of his wrists above his head and to the bed. He'd never had that happen during sex before (granted, he'd only had sex three times and all with the same person), but it was having an amazing effect on the heat pooling in his lower belly.

When he was close to coming, sososo close to coming, the person kissing him pulled back. Spencer wanted to protest, say no stop please I need this, but then... It wasn't a girl who was smiling down at him. It was Jon, and Spencer was so startled that he woke himself up.  Spencer didn't mean to gasp, but he did, loud. He sat there straight as a rod in bed and tried to blink the dream out of his eyes. He'd woken Jon up with the noise, and Jon was laying in his own bed, looking half asleep but still raising an eyebrow at spencer.

"Y'kay?" Jon mumbled, and Spencer nodded. Fine fine he was totally fine. Just a dream. Nightmare. Something.

Jon squinted at him and propped himself up on one elbow. He sniffed, leaning forward.

"You smell funny," Jon said.

Spencer blushed. Oh God. "Shut up, dick head."

Jon sniffed at him again, and Spencer balled the blanket up on his lap to hide. It didn't work well enough. Jon's face broke into a shit eating grin.

"Dude, you're hard!" Jon said. "Dirty dreams?" He winked.

 Spencer was kind of on the forefront of a nervous breakdown. "I am not."

"You totally are!" Jon laughed. "Who you dreaming about?"

"Nobody," he growled. "Shut up, seriously."

"Do I know her?" Jon teased. Spencer was going to literally die. He got up and stormed off to the bathroom, lobbing his lumpy pillow at Jon's face in the process, and then locked the door behind him.

"Fuck," he said, leaning back heavily against the bathroom door and looking up at the ceiling. The bright light burned his eyes. "Fuck fuck fuck."

After expressing that sentiment a dozen times more, Spencer ran his fingers through his hair and made himself breathe. Okay, so he'd had a wet dream about Jon. That shit happens. Spencer was just sexually frustrated, that was it. He hadn't gotten any since Haley and he had broken up, and while they hadn't exactly been busy, he still missed the sex. He was a guy. A guy with needs.

Okay. So that was fine. You can't control your dreams unless you use intense amounts of focus or whatever. Having a sex dream about Jon didn't mean anything. He was just as straight as he'd always been. He was fine.

Not that there was a problem with being gay. No, no of course not. Jon was gay, Brendon was gay, lots of awesome people were gay. It was fine to be gay, it just... It wasn't fine for _Spencer_ to be gay. But he was fine. He wasn't gay. Oh my god.

Spencer looked in the mirror for a moment and examined himself. In pajama pants and a tshirt he looked fine, just as straight as he'd always looked. He should get a new haircut though. It was growing to long and curling to the side on his forehead. It looked like a girl's, peeking out from around his neck and under his jaw. Maybe if he got it short... That would be cool. Spencer stared at himself until his heartbeat had calmed down and he felt reassured. He had been overreacting.

Even so, he still had a throbbing problem in his pants that he didn't know how to deal with, because each time he considered jerking off in the shower, his brain flashed him back to the dream, but it wasn't as good as he remembered. Jon's hands on his hips. Jon's mouth. Jon laying on top of him. Jon pinning him to the bed. Jon Jon Jon and he could not jerk off to that. No. No way. Not even when his stomach flipped every time he thought about it. Him. Fuck.

No. Just... No.

He opted for a cold shower, spending a lot of time standing there and shivering and not actually showering, but at least his erection weaned and faded. On the verge of hypothermia, he turned the water as hot as he could stand it. The drastic change between cold and hot water made it sting like a mother fucker, but he gritted his teeth and washed his hair until the water felt comfortable again.

"Spencer!!!" Brendon's voice jerked Spencer out of a half asleep state. Brendon was pounding heavily on the door, making far too much noise for however early in the morning was. "I'm going to be late for school if you don't hurry up! Come on! I have to pee!"

"Gimme a minute!" Spencer yelled back, switching off the water and wrapping a towel around his waist. He shook his hair out like a dog and ruffled it until it was just a little drippy.  Spencer spread toothpaste on his toothbrush and stuck that in his mouth while unlocking the bathroom door. As soon as he did, Brendon bolted inside and immediately unzipped his pants.

"Ew, Brendon, what the fuck?" Spencer protested around teeth brushing, so it came out like 'eh bennen ah eh fuh?' but Brendon knew what he was trying to say. 

"I have to pee, Spencer! This is an emergency!" Brendon insisted, doing just that. Spencer rolled his eyes and faced the opposite wall while brushing his teeth.

"Ya tho fuhhen weh," Spencer told him, expressing how fucking weird Brendon was with a mouthful of toothpaste.

 "You love it," Brendon chirped over a toilet flush. He went to the sink to wash his hands.  Spencer pushed Brendon out of the way so he could spit out the toothpaste and rinse out his mouth. Brendon flicked water at him in protest, but he'd just showered, so it wasn't like that was effective.

"Yeah, no."

Brendon pouted at him, giant eyes and pushed out bottom lip. Spencer didn't want there to be any genuine sadness behind that pout, and he feared that there might be, the way Brendon had been acting lately. Just another thing to worry about. Spencer sighed, "yeah, love you, b," and tugged on the kid's ear until his face broke out in a smile. He grinned back and went to go get dressed, dream half forgotten until Jon smirked at him again in their bedroom.

"Go away," Spencer snapped, glaring at him while he crossed to the dresser. Jon's smirk faltered and fell away completely.

"You're still upset that I teased you? Dude, don't be so sensitive," Jon said, frowning at him with that wounded expression that Spencer really couldn't stand. Not from Brendon, but especially not from Jon. He'd have to work on developing thicker skin.

"I'm not," Spencer said curtly. "I have to get ready for class."

"You don't have class on Thursdays," Jon pointed out, crossing his arms. He was right.  Damn. 

"Well, I'm going out anyways then," he decided, pulling on boxers and then dropping his towel. 

"Uh huh, except that you're grounded," Jon said, leaning against the door jam. Of course he was right about that too. Spencer really just wanted to hit something.

"Don't you have to get ready for work?" He asked, getting desperate.

"I don't go in until four," he said, then in a softer tone, looking at Spencer with those stupid eyes again, "Did I do something wrong?"

Spencer balled his fists. "No."

"Well, I'm sorry anyways?" Jon asked, staring at Spencer earnestly. Spencer didn't feel like being earnest right then. "Look, I've had a really awful week, and I'm sorry if I've been taking it out on you, if that's what I've been doing or what you're upset about. I really am sorry, just... Tell me why you're treating me like shit."

Well, now Spencer felt like a major jerk. He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair again. It was slightly tangled from the shower and hurt when he jerked his hand through.

"It’s nothing, Jon, really. I'm... I woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something, okay? I'm just in a bad mood," he explained, riddled half truths but that's all he could give.

Jon gave Spencer a small smile and walked over to him. Spencer would really rather not be touched, not then, but he wasn't going to shove Jon off when he hugged him. He made himself hug Jon back and breathed a bit easier. This was his and Jon's relationship- hugs and stupid hassling and making faces at each other over coffee in the morning. Dream Jon wasn't even the real Jon, and it might not have even been Jon. But it didn't matter. It was just a dream, even if spencer still felt sick in the pit of his stomach. The dream was just a dream; he and Jon would never be like that. Spencer needed to try dating again maybe. Get a girlfriend. Get his head back on straight. Correctly. Whatever.

 

...  
It was a slight bummer that no one stared at them when they held hands in the hallways. Not that Brendon necessarily wanted people staring at him, but he wouldn't mind it either. Not if they were staring at him and seeing that he had a girlfriend. He kind of wanted that jerk who'd called him a faggot to see just so Brendon could say 'ha!' really loud at him. Even though he still was a faggot... but... he had a girlfriend, and she didn't need to know about him and his deficiencies..

"I bought you a cookie," Sarah said, coming and sitting next to him at the lunch table instead of across from him as usual. Shane didn't seem to mind.

"Thanks!" Brendon said. He kissed her on the cheek because it seemed like something a boyfriend would do for a girlfriend if she bought him a cookie. He should have thought to buy her a cookie first, though. He had to focus on this more. 

"So, you crazy kids have sex yet?" Shane asked. Sarah kicked him under the table, judging by the shift, the thump, and the surprised yelp. Brendon totally wasn't blushing.

"Buzz off, Valdez." Sarah was smiling. Sarah was always smiling. It was nice because it looked real.

"I need to keep your daddy informed, little lady," he said. "This one looks like trouble."

Sarah smirked at him.  "We're keeping our parents in the loop now, are we? Oh won't yours be excited to hear what you've been up to."

"Nuh uh, hold up. I, in my infinite wisdom as an adult-"

"You're a senior, not a senior citizen!"

"-have the maturity to handle myself. You, on the other hand, are a delicate little flower."

"I'm going to seriously hurt you," she said, and then stole his coke off his tray to make some kind of point. She chugged half of it before Shane was able to snag it out of her hands.

"Ha!" 

"Shit head!"

Sarah belched, and Brendon went into a laughing fit. If he had to have a girlfriend, he was pretty happy that he had this one.

Lunch was over too quickly, and it left Brendon feeling spacey and twitchy. Sitting still for two and half more hours was going to be really hard.  Sarah took his hand and held it while they followed Shane and a crowd of other teenagers out of the cafeteria. Brendon couldn't exactly help looking, since it was right there in front of him, and Shane had a really nice ass. He didn't wear skinny jeans the way a few boys in school did and Brendon wished he could, but his normal Levi's were form fitting in just the right places and just-

"That's a nice ass," Sarah commented, and Brendon felt himself flush bright red. She'd totally just caught him, and Brendon tried to think of a way to explain himself when Sarah reached forward and smacked it.

Shane jumped, then turned and glared at them with a smile playing on his lips. He reached forward and flicked her in the forehead, and he sent Brendon a wink when Sarah started talking about how all humans were beautiful and it was important to admire the human form. Brendon's palms had started sweating.  Shane dropped back in the crowd to walk next to them. He ducked down close to Brendon's ear and whispered, "Carry her books, dumb ass," and then he was gone, bobbing through the mass towards the senior hallway.

Books, right, that's a boyfriend thing.

"Can I-" he asked, accidentally interrupting her. She gave him her attention patiently. "Books? Carry yours? Can I carry your books?"

Shoot him dead right there.

Her lips, which were pink today, unnaturally with lipstick but absolutely gorgeous, curled into a tiny smile. She nodded and handed the books over to him. It took him a moment to figure out how to balance her books in her arms without dropping his backpack, which was sliding down his shoulder, but he smiled wide when he got it. Sarah just gave him a curious look and pecked him on the lips, then headed off for class. He followed her. 

On the way there he saw the bathroom sink boy hanging out by the drinking fountain. He didn't have a hand free to wave, so he decided to try and look cool like Shane. He caught the boy's gaze and winked. The boy just made a face at him. Oh well. Brendon was going to practice winking in the mirror.

"Did you just wink at that kid?" Sarah asked him, and Brendon blushed again. He wasn't getting away with anything today.

"Uhm... We're friends?"

Sarah laughed and kissed his cheek. "Awesome, babe."  'Babe.' Huh. He'd have to write that down so he'd remember he was allowed to use it.

He did write it down, in his notebook during his next class. When the girl next to him leaned over and asked why he was writing 'babe' in his notebook repeatedly, Brendon just swallowed hard and said he was really passionate about the pig movie. She nodded like that made sense, but Brendon was pretty sure it just sounded stupid.

 

...  
"You haven't gone out with James recently," Zack pointed out over dinner. Jon glanced up, gaze skittering over everyone at the table, and then shrugged. 

"I think we're broken up," Jon said. Brendon's fork fell onto his plate with a clatter and he stared at Jon with his mouth gaping. Jon appreciated his enthusiasm, especially when Spencer just rolled his eyes. 

"What!?" Brendon burst out. "What happened?"

Even Zack looked curious, but Jon didn't really have anything to say about it. "Uhm, we just weren't connecting that well, I guess."

"You were connecting pretty well in his car the other day," Spencer muttered bitterly. Brendon frowned and elbowed Spencer in the ribs. That was sweet of him.

"It wasn't a long term thing," Jon explained. "And we, uhm.. We had an argument, and we haven't talked since. I think it's over."

Zack was frowning at him when he said, "It would he mature of you to talk to him, whether you're breaking up or not."

 Jon shrugged. "I'll talk when he contacts me."

"Jon." 

Jon rolled his eyes, not in the mood to be bossed around.  Especially about this.  He was an adult, damn it.  He didn't need relationship advice.  This wasn't senior prom.  "It'll be fine. I can take care of myself, okay?"

Zack nodded and went back to his dinner, but he didn’t look entirely satisfied. Spencer was chewing on his grilled cheese with an amount of vehemence that Jon wasn't sure a sandwich deserved. Brendon was still frowning at him with that face, the face with the giant eyes that broke Jon's heart. Jon reached his ankle under the table and crossed it with Brendon's.

"It happens, B. Not everything is forever," he tried to explain. Brendon nodded and gave him a grin. Jon wasn't sure if it was real or not.

"Kay," Brendon said. Jon just sighed.

It wasn't until three days later that Jon's phone started ringing, showing the name  **James:).** He hesitated for just a moment before clicking the green button and holding it up to his ear.

"Jwalk," he said, cause that's what he always said, caller id's be damned. It was a habit.

"Hey, it's James."

Jon bit his lip. "I know."

There was a long pause. Jon left Brendon to his Halo game and went to his room. He laid down on his bed and reached towards the ceiling, just because. Spencer was shooting him curious looks. He'd been hanging out in his room a whole lot more since Zack had yelled at him. He was starting to look extremely bored.

Eventually James sighed on the other end.

"We broke up, right?" James asked, and Jon felt both a gushing relief and a twinge of sadness. He wasn't sure where the second one had come from.

"Yeah," he breathed out. "Yeah, I think so... Did we?" 

There was another sigh. "Yeah,"

"It was good while it lasted?" Jon asked.

"But I don't think either of us were really serious about it."

Jon frowned for a moment, slightly hurt, before making himself think about it. He'd already admitted it to himself, he'd never really considered him and James to be a long term thing. He'd admitted it at dinner, for God's sake. The only person he hadn't told yet was James. Well, shit.

"I'm going to be honest, okay?" Jon asked. He glanced over at Spencer on the other bed and got up. "Just hold on a second." He closed the door behind him and then went out into the hall, the one outside of their entire apartment and then down to the stairwell. He'd rather not have eavesdroppers.

"Okay," Jon said.

"Okay?"

"So, I like you, but there's someone else who's kind of stuck in my head," Jon admitted, plopping down to sit on the cold stairs. "And I had fun with you, but... I can't be as into this relationship as I need to be for it to work, I guess."

"I'm not good at being tied down," James responded. "I just... It won't work."

"Cool," Jon rubbed his hand over his face. "So... We weren't really friends before we started all of this, should we just...?"

"Skip the 'let's be friends' and just 'have a nice life'?" James offered.  Jon grinned despite himself. At least this breakup was going easily.

"I can do that," he said. 

"Okay," James said, and it sounded like he was smiling. "Let me be honest one more time. I called because there's a boy I want to take home tonight, and I really didn't want to cheat on you."

Well, Jon thought. At least he was being considerate.

"Have fun then," he said.

James laughed. "Yeah, see ya," and then he hung up. Jon stayed there in the stairwell for a while, staring at the wall. He tried to connect to wifi so he could bum around on the internet or something for a while before going back inside, but the service was awful. He found himself flipping through the contacts, and when he got to James' he hesitated before tapping 'delete.' With a dejected sigh, Jon heaved himself up onto his feet and went back to the apartment.

 

 

...  
Brendon was in a bad mood, which was what got him into this mess. He knew better, that was the problem. He was stupid, so freaking stupid. He'd been at his locker after first hour Spanish, digging his math book out of the bottom. He’d had a metal shelf hanging in there, but it decided to collapse, leaving all of his books and papers and binders in an disorderly heap at the bottom of his locker.

It took a lot of tugging, but eventually he was able to rip his math binder free from the wreckage. Unfortunately, the force sent him staggering back a bit, and he knocked right into someone’s legs as he tumbled backwards.

“Dude, watch it,” the guy snapped. The toe of the boy’s cowboy boot (cowboy boots. how stupid was that?) hit Brendon hard in the ribs and he winced. That was fine though, or it would have been, if Brendon had kept his giant mouth shut and told himself that it was an accident. The boy would have rolled his eyes and gone off to whatever upper level senior class he had next, and Brendon would have frowned and rubbed his side and scrambled off to Geometry, and it would have been fine.

Unfortunately, Brendon was an idiot who decided to let his bad day run away with his mouth.

He jumped to his feet and shoved the guy’s shoulder as he was passing. “You watch it, asshole,” he spat. As the taller boy spun towards Brendon, the bell for second hour rang above their heads. Everyone else left in the hallway quickly scattered off to various classrooms. The teachers went off too, leaving the hallway empty in a matter of seconds. Well. Crap.

The guy turned on heel shoved Brendon back, hard, before walking away. 

Brendon was a generally dizzy person, and the shove sent him flying. He was a little guy. He tripped over his own feet and smacked his face on the nearby water fountain. There was once a time when he had thought having a water fountain near his locker was amazing, but as blood dripped out of his split lip and into his cupped hand, it didn’t seem as cool.

“Ow,” he said, because it wasn’t like there was anyone there to listen to him. He picked himself off the floor and shoved his books into his bag with one hand, trying to keep blood from getting all over his shirt and the hallway floor. When he glanced up, there was a kid standing down the hallway, hesitant look on his face and one of Brendon's notebooks, which must have gotten kicked down the hallway, in his hand.  Black skinny jeans, dark painted nails, eyeliner, cool hair.

“Oh,” Brendon said, looking at him. “Bathroom kid,” he grimaced, because he really shouldn’t have said that out loud. “Thank you.”

He said the words as best as he could with his lip swelling up, but they still sounded dumb. Stupid water fountain. Stupid cowboy boots. He threw his things in his locker and slammed it shut before going down the hall towards the kid, who faltered and stepped away, back hitting the wall of lockers behind him.

“Thanks,” he said again, trying to smile, but it made his face feel like it was going to rip in half. He went for a small grin.

The boy practically threw the notebook at Brendon before running down the hall in the other direction. Right, of course. Bathroom kid didn’t want to talk to a loser like Brendon. He probably had really cool friends to talk to. Friends who wore cool jeans and eyeliner and had good hair. Whatever.

Brendon let his bag drag on the floor while he hurried to the bathroom, where he balled up some paper towel and pressed it to his bleeding lip. Ow. That hurt like a bitch. He let himself whimper, because a quick listen told him that he was the only one in the bathroom. He waited a while for his lip to stop bleeding, checking it periodically and wincing every time the paper stuck to the cut. It eventually slowed down enough that he could wash the blood off his face and his hands and then frown at himself in the bathroom mirror.

He didn’t want to go back to class. He couldn’t, not with the way today was going. It would probably literally kill him. He just wanted to go home. It was cold outside though, had started raining right after he’d gotten to school, and he hadn’t brought anything heavier than a hoodie with him. The last thing he needed was to walk home in the freezing rain and catch bronchitis. He could always switch over and run home through the woods, but he couldn’t carry his backpack and clothes in wolf form. Would he still have a split lip as a wolf? He wasn’t sure how those things worked out.

After several moments of hesitation, Brendon pulled out his cellphone and called Jon. He couldn't call Spencer, who was in class, or Zack, who wouldn't approve of this, and there was no way he was going back to class. Jon was the best option. Jon was nice and wouldn't ask too many questions, and most importantly, he could drive.

"Hey B, how's the learning process?" Jon greeted Brendon after only two rings. Brendon chewed on the inside of his cheek, feeling guilty about this already. He was bothering Jon. He hadn't thought about that before.

"Earth to Brendon? Did you butt dial me?"

"N-no," Brendon stuttered out, cursing himself silently and slouching against the wall. "Jon? Uhm.... Could you come get me?"

"Is everything okay?" Brendon could pick out the slight tone of worry in Jon's voice even though it was tinny through the small cell phone speaker.  He was making Jon worry about him.  He shouldn't have done this.  He felt so guilty.

"Everything's fine. Kind of. I just... Please? I need to come home..."  Jon was quiet on the other end for a long moment, long enough for Brendon to repeat the words 'stupid' and 'I hate you' to himself a dozen times in his head, but then there was a sigh.  Before Jon could say no, Brendon spoke up, “Please?" He hated how desperate he sounded, but he felt like he was drowning. There was no way he could sit through the rest of the day like this.

"Alright kiddo," Jon said, voice slightly strained as if he were sitting up and stretching. "I'll be there in ten."

"I'll be waiting outside."

After ending the call and sliding his phone into his pocket, Brendon loitered around the bathroom for five more minutes. He then went to his locker, shoved everything he might need for homework into his backpack, and snuck off down the hallway. The main office had an all-glass wall looking out on the hallway, but Brendon was smart enough to wait for the secretary to turn her back before darting past the windows and out front door of the school. He loped down the stairs and sat on the curb at the edge of the road, poking his split lip with his pointer finger under Jon's slightly beat up car pulled into view.

"Dude," Jon said when Brendon slid in the passenger seat. "Bren. What happened?"

Brendon shrugged. "It'll be healed in two hours," he said. Split lips took longer to heal than other cuts, like on his arms or legs; he knew that from experience. The skin was fragile, and head injuries always bled more than other ones.

"How’d it happen?" Jon insisted.

Brendon drew in a shaky breath. "I tripped," technically not a lie. "Really, I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

Jon sighed and pulled the car away from the curb. "I worry about you anyways, kid."

That made Brendon feel like he was going to throw up. He was such a nuisance. If he were any good he wouldn't make other people worry about him.  He should have known how to take care of himself.  He shouldn't have asked Jon for help.  He didn't need help.  He was fine.

"I'm sorry," he choked out.

Jon reached over and patted his knee. "You wanna waste some time before going back? Avoid Zack's questions about the fat lip?"

Brendon really, really loved Jon. He nodded vigorously, and Jon just gave him one of those warm Jon smiles before pulling onto a road, headed in the opposite direction of the apartment.

 

...  
"I promise I'll pay you back," Brendon said for probably the twelfth time, but he couldn't keep track or stop himself from saying it anyways. He felt guilty. He didn't want to be taking advantage of Jon being nice to him.

"Seriously, Bren, it's fine. A two dollar milkshake isn't anything to kill yourself over." Jon ruffled Brendon's hair before heading for the apartment door. Brendon couldn't help but make a whiny noise in his throat like a puppy because Jon just wasn't listening to him.

"Thank you," he said instead. "I really appreciate it."

"Mhm." Jon stuck his key in the lock and wrenched the door open. Brendon followed him inside, where they were greeted with a view of Zack standing in the living room, stormy expression on his face and cell phone pressed to his ear. He frowned at them when they came in.

"He just came in now, actually," Zack said into the phone. "Yeah, I found him."

Brendon wanted to chew on his lip but didn't. It was still a bit sore from earlier, even if the cut had closed up. He glanced at Zack and leaned back against the wall near the door.

"Yes, I know this is the second time this has happened..." Zack was still talking into the cell phone. If Brendon focused his senses he could hear his principal talking on the other end. He didn't want to focus on that. "Entirely unacceptable, I know.... Yes, I'll take care of it.... I understand.... Thank you."

He flipped his phone closed and turned to Brendon. "Any idea who I was just talking to?" He asked.

Brendon swallowed hard and ducked his head instead of answering.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" He was pissed. Brendon knew he deserved whatever was coming to him. He braced himself. "You’re supposed to be in class right now, but instead you’re running around playing hookie. You know that they can fail you, right? They can kick you out if you miss too much. Hell, the principal threatened to suspend you! Is that what you want?”

Brendon shook his head, eyes on the floor. “No.”

“Do you at least have an explanation this time? Because I would really appreciate it. Your principal thinks you’re some kind of problem child. He told me to get control of you before you end up dropping out. I know you aren’t a bad kid, but I would really appreciate knowing what’s going on here.”

“I’m sorry,” was all he could come up with to say. How was he supposed to tell Zack that his head was all fucked up and he couldn’t control being unbearably sad, and that there were assholes pushing him around at school that made it worse. He couldn’t tell him that. Not after Zack had taken him in and let him live there. He’d sound so ungrateful. And Zack was a big guy. He’d probably never had anyone push him around. He wouldn’t get it.

Zack rubbed his hand over his face and let out a long breath that sounded kind of like a growl. “Well since you’re already here, you might as well get a start on your homework. Go.”  He pointed at the kitchen table, and Brendon went, skirting around Zack just out of reach. He knew what Spencer had told him before, but it was just in case.

“Yes sir.”

“You scare the hell out of your school when you disappear like this. It’s their job to keep track of you, and it’ll look pretty damn bad if they lose a kid,” the older wolf continued.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You do realize that they keep attendance, right? You can't just go running off whenever you feel like it. You're supposed to sign out before you leave. Do you think the rules don't apply to you or something?"

Brendon murmured a "no sir" and didn’t bother trying to explain that signing out wasn’t an option. They didn’t just let you leave. You had to go to the nurse and prove that you were physically unfit to stay. You had to produce a high fever or a bucket of vomit or a broken bone. If Brendon had gone in there, he’d have gotten an ice pack and too many questions he didn’t want to answer. A bunch of adults would have questioned him about if he was being bullied or something. They would have called Zack. Brendon didn’t want to cause that much of a ruckus over nothing. But he couldn’t explain all of that, so he kept his mouth shut. He kind of wished that the school would understand, sometimes it wasn’t your body that’s too messed up to stay at school. Sometimes it’s your head.

Jon chose that moment to speak up, voice calm as always. "He didn't just run off. I went and picked him up."

"Stay out of this, Jonathan," Zack said, prompting Jon to huff and flop onto the couch. "Aren't you supposed to be at work right now?"

"I called off," Jon said, then looked at Zack with a pointed expression on his face and said, "Sometimes you just need to call off."

The two stared each other down for a moment, having some kind of silent conversation before Zack let out a long, tired breath.  “You want to go out and get something to eat, B?” Zack asked, tone a lot softer than before. Brendon glanced at him hesitantly. “It’s about lunch time. You’re probably hungry.”

Brendon was pretty hungry. He’d forgotten to eat breakfast that morning, and a milkshake wasn’t nearly enough to fill him up anymore. But going out for food meant Zack would want to ‘talk about it.’ But food… Hmm.

“Yes please,” he said. Zack nodded.

“Alright then, go get your jacket. You coming Jon?”

Brendon got up from the table and hurried down the hall to his room, where he pulled on his new winter jacket. He felt guilty about that too. He’d have to find a way to pay Zack back for it. Maybe he should get a job. Then he wouldn’t be around the apartment enough to bother everyone.

“C’mon Bren!” Jon’s voice called out, and Brendon ran to join them.

 

 

…  
Sarah and Shane were waiting for him as he sat down at the lunch table. “Well hey there, Houdini. Where the hell did you vanish to yesterday?” Sarah asked him, and the words could have been mean, but her tone was light and she was already throwing her arm around his shoulders, so he figured she wasn’t mad.

“I went home early,” he said simply. He was feeling good today, and Sarah didn’t need to know all about how stupid Brendon and his mood swings were.

“I texted you last night, but you never answered. I was kind of worried you were dead or something.”

“Yeah, sorry. Zack took my phone away last night cause I skipped school.” That was a lie. Brendon had seen every text message come in but chose to ignore them, eventually just turning off his cellphone and putting it in his backpack. He didn’t know why he had ignored Sarah all night. He just hadn’t had the energy to respond.

“Wait, you ditched?” Shane asked, smiling and then throwing his arm in the air. Brendon flinched without meaning to, but then Shane said, “Way to go, dude,” and Brendon realized he wanted a high five. He hesitated for just a moment before smacking Shane’s hand and grinning. Shane thought he was cool. Something happy fluttered around in Brendon’s chest.

“You should come hang out at my place after school,” Sarah said with a dazzling smile. Of course on a day that Brendon actually feels up for something, he can’t. He sighed heavily and dropped his elbows on the table on either side of his tray, which has far too few chicken nuggets and far too many green beans. The world was unfair.

“I can’t,” Brendon lamented, pouting a bit. “I’m grounded.”

Shane did something like snort, rolling his eyes along with it, and Brendon’s stomach sank. He wasn’t very hungry anymore. He felt his cheeks burn and looked at Sarah instead. She was squinting a bit, looking like she was up to something.

Eventually she said, “On what terms?”

“Excuse me?”

“Grounded how?” she elaborated, “What did he say?”

At least this part wasn’t a lie, so he didn’t have to make anything up. Still, it was humiliating to talk about this in front of Shane, who was almost eighteen and cool and didn’t ever get grounded or whatever probably. He probably thought Brendon was a stupid little kid.

“I have to go home straight after school for the rest of the week, and I’m not allowed to leave school early anymore unless I’m near death,” he sighed and poked lazily at his green beans.

Sarah nodded thoughtfully. “Did he say anything about anyone coming home with you?”

Brendon blinked and pursed his lips. “I don’t think so….”

“So you just have to be home right after school?”

Brendon nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Zack didn’t mention anything else really.” Just the expected ‘you should talk to me about this’ and ‘I’m worried about you’ and ‘are you sure there’s nothing going on?’ But no other rules that Brendon could recall.

“Then I’ll come to your place after school instead. Problem solved.” Sarah looked pretty proud of herself, and her scent was happy. Brendon didn’t have it in him to say no.

“Okay.”

“You kids have fun at your play date,” Shane said, lounging back in his chair with long, muscular arms folded behind his head, a smirk on his face along with impressive stubble that had been slowly growing over the last two days. “I have a date with a bottle of tequila.”

After Shane pushed himself up to go talk to his other friends across the cafeteria (Brendon hadn’t understood why he even hung out with them in the first place, until Sarah explained that they’d been family friends since their diaper days and were just accustomed to sticking together), Sarah grinned and rolled her eyes.

“He’s not nearly as cool as you think he is, sweet cheeks,” she told him, patting his cheek gently. He didn’t have cool stubble like Shane did. His face was unfortunately smooth as a baby’s butt. On the bright side, Spencer didn’t have to shave more than once a week, so he wasn’t entirely alone in his hairlessness.

Besides all of that, Brendon didn’t want Sarah to think that Brendon thought anything special about Shane. Not beyond ‘yeah he’s pretty chill he’s my buddy’ type thoughts. Certainly not crush-like thoughts. Nope, those needed to be quelled. Sadly, by the time Brendon thought of something to say to defend himself, Sarah was across the cafeteria dumping her tray. Brendon scarfed down his chicken nuggets and dry cafeteria brownie in the few minutes before the bell would ring, and spent the rest of his time staring forlornly at the offending green beans on his plate. Shane and Sarah were both elsewhere talking to their other friends, and Brendon tried not to be pouty or jealous. They were amazing. They deserved to have more than two friends. He glanced around the cafeteria, trying to find the cool kid with the hair and the makeup and the skinny jeans, but he couldn’t find him in the five hundred student population crowded into the cafeteria.

That’s okay. The kid wouldn’t want to talk to Brendon, even if Brendon could somehow find the guts to start an actual conversation with him.

 

 

…  
Things were all kinds of weird when Zack returned from the grocery store. For one thing, Spencer was sulking around in the hallway growling quietly and muttering to himself under his breath. Zack didn’t ask, because with Spencer it was easier to just let him be grouchy on his own for a little while. When he made his way past the pouting werewolf and into the apartment, Jon was lounging on one couch accompanied by a pungent smell of marijuana. Zack was pretty sure he’d have been able to smell it even without his enhanced senses. At least the drug had been declared legal in Colorado, but he knew Maggie Walker wouldn’t be pleased if she found out.

Brendon and his friend, Sarah, were on the other couch playing an exciting game of Guitar Hero, with lots of jumping and elbowing each other, and lots of singing on Brendon’s part. The young werewolf, at least, had the sense to stop singing and look at Zack with a startled, slightly guilty expression when he came in. Zack considered that perhaps he should have been more clear with what being grounded meant.

Jon shifted like he was going to get up, but Zack waved a hand at him. “Stay,” Jon collapsed back against the couch and looked grateful, obviously still clouded over from his earlier activities. Zack felt like he was doing the worst possible job as a guardian.  He should pick up a parenting book from the library.  'Help: My Apartment Is Filled With Emotionally Damaged Teenagers and I'm The One In Charge,' or 'How To Be A Good Alpha For Dummy's!'  Something like that would help. 

“Brendon, can you come help put the groceries away?” he asked, dropping the five paper grocery bags on the kitchen table. Brendon immediately leapt up and dropped the video game controller on the couch. Zack knew that there was some not good stuff about the way Brendon had been raised, but it was sweet how helpful the kid was whenever he was asked.

“So you know you’re grounded, right?” he asked while Brendon was kneeling up on the counter, stacking canned goods in the cabinet. Zack closed the fridge, and Brendon hopped down, glancing at Zack bashfully.

“You… uhm… you said I had to come straight home, but you didn’t say I couldn’t bring someone with me...?” Whenever Brendon got nervous all of his sentences turned into questions. Zack huffed out a breath and scowled, because damn, the kid was right.

“Fine,” he said. “For today, fine. But the rest of the week just you, got it?”  Brendon nodded, mumbling ‘sorry’ so quiet that Zack almost thought he’d imagined it.

“Go play, I can finish up," he said, ruffling Brendon’s hair as he sent him away. Brendon flinched before his face tinged pink and he skittered out of the room. Zack sighed again. He seriously needed to ask for some advice on these fucking kids.

 

 

...  
The woods, Ryan decided after one particularly awful afternoon, were vile. He was huddled in the tiny piece of the forest he’d claimed about a quarter mile away from a campground that was closed in the off-season. None of the nature loving mortals were dumb enough to face the elements in November. The campground was convenient though, with the bath house where Ryan could freshen up once in a while. He’d taken refuge in there once or twice during some bad storms that had settled in. There was also a shack for the rangers who manned the front gate during the warm weather. After pulling the wires on the security cameras, Ryan climbed up on the power box and popped the back window. He shimmied through, and inside he found a vending machine and a couch, which was like his own personal land of milk and honey, honestly.  He would have crashed there permanently for the winter (or at least as long as the vending machine snacks held out), but he’d almost gotten caught when a ranger came in to check on the place, and he liked to avoid close calls.

That was why he set up camp where he did. A quarter mile from the campground, a little more than a mile from town. Close enough either way to get what he wanted and retreat from any trouble he happened to get into.

He was only safe from human trouble, unfortunately. Black bears weren’t scared off by the woods, and Ryan had a nasty gash struggling to heal on his bicep from earlier that afternoon. It was snowing again, and he wanted to morph over to keep himself warm for the night, but he was scared to try switching bodies with the injury on his arm. He wasn’t sure how that stuff worked. Switching back after fighting off the bear had caused a bright hot pain to sear through all of his upper body, like a million arrows. After laying on the forest floor for a while, trembling from exertion, he decided it was time to give up. His chest still felt achy, and the scrape on his arm was throbbing and burning awfully. Obviously not his best idea.

His tiny fire wasn’t warm enough, and if the snow got any heavier it would probably kill the flames. If Ryan got any closer to it, he’d end up setting himself on fire. His clothes now had gaping holes from the bear fiasco and were crusty with blood in a few places. He’d fallen into a creek in his escape, and his icy shoes hadn’t dried yet. Put simply, he was miserable.

There were raccoons creeping in closer to his campsite, probably coming for what was left of his food. “Fuck off,” he growled at them. “I’ll eat you.”

He really wouldn’t, but he hoped that growling was animal enough to discourage them from coming closer. They creeped him out, to be honest, with their gross little faces and tiny black hands. His two hoodies and stolen quilt weren’t enough shelter against them.

Even though he couldn’t go into wolf form to keep warm, he could at least let hair grow thick on the tops of his hands and the back of his neck. He could even grow some on his face if he focused hard enough on it. It wasn’t enough to grow a beard, but it was something at least. Like insulation.

A cutting wind blew through and chilled Ryan right down to his bones. The quilt wasn’t any protection against the strong winds flying down the mountain, and he desperately missed his old tarp tent, which he’d accidentally set ablaze with an overenthusiastic campfire. It didn’t matter if he could cut a few camera chords or steal food cases off the back of trucks or hitchhike his way across the country. Even with all that, it was painfully obvious that he didn’t know what he was doing.

Another wind came and sliced through him. He hissed in a pained breath when the air made contact with the wound on his arm. He wished it would heal already. He wished he could figure out how to fix it faster, or at least have something to bind it up until it healed itself.

The area around him got a bit lighter, and he squinted up against the snow to spy the moon through a patch of trees. It was almost full, so close that Ryan could feel it pulsing in his veins, tingling in his sinuses, aching in his joints, itching somewhere in his muscles and he wanted to stalk around and growl at something or howl. It had to be full the next night, and if his arm wasn’t healed by then he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He couldn’t switch over, but he couldn’t get through the full moon without switching over. He was stuck.

Really, he had two options. He made his mind up quickly.

“Hey!” he suddenly bellowed, shattering the silence and sending his raccoon stalkers scrambling. Good. “Hey you sparkly asshole! I know you can hear me!”

Ryan wondered briefly when he’d stopped talking to God and started talking to fairies, and then there was a loud pop and a burst of smoke followed immediately by a voice. “You know, I prefer ‘your highness’ or ‘beloved prince,’ but ‘sparkly asshole’ is certainly one of the more creative ones I’ve heard. Most people just call me Pete.”

Ryan pulled his legs up close to him and growled from behind them, letting his teeth shift to make room for his canines and feeling the familiar rumbling in his throat. Pete might be a prince, but this was Ryan’s territory damn it, and if he had to ask for help, he’d rather not be made fun of while he did it.

“Oh come off it, wolfboy,” Pete rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. Instantly the fire flared up, and Ryan scrambled back frantically before he could catch. His hand slipped, and he landed hard on his shoulder, crying out from the pain in his already injured arm.

“Smart werewolves don’t wrestle with bears,” Pete said, appearing at Ryan’s side and crouching next to him. “At least not until they’re able to control themselves, which you’re not. You should really think about finding an alpha to teach you.”

“I don’t need anyone to teach me shit,” Ryan spat out between clenched teeth, reluctantly sitting up and offering his arm to Pete.

“Ah, yes. Your ‘refusal to associate with monsters’ complex,” Pete said, sounding smug and Ryan wanted to punch him in his ugly little face, but he didn’t. He hated Pete, but the fairy freak was also kind of becoming a friend.

“I’m not like them,” he protested.

“Of course not. Brace yourself,” the fairy spoke quickly, and Ryan didn’t have anytime to brace himself before Pete squeezed, causing bright hot pain to flare through Ryan’s entire arm as it healed. He screamed. He hated magic.

Pete leaned in a blew gently, causing a cool, ice-like feeling to settle over and numb the area. “You’ll live,” he said, patting Ryan’s shoulder and standing. Ryan held in another growl.

“Don’t patronize me,” he said.

“Of course not, little one,” Pete winked, and Ryan let himself really growl this time. There was a quiet moment of Pete standing with his arms crossed and his head tipped up to stare at the sky. Ryan caught his breath, but unfortunately when he did that, his heart beat slowed down to normal and his protective layer of hair retreated, leaving him uninsulated and shivering.

He pretended he wasn’t while he scooted closer to the fire Pete had made and croaked out a “Thank you.”

“I’d be bored without you hairy little weirdos needing me to take care of you all the time,” he responded. “It’s fun. Full moon tomorrow.”

Ryan nodded, “Yeah.” He tucked his hands in under his armpits, seeking warmth. He was running out of body heat, but at least the magic induced fire didn’t threaten to flicker out when harsh winds blew through. Not like Ryan’s handmade fires always did.

“Going out with a pack, or risking getting your ass kicked again?” Pete asked. “They’re not bad guys, you know. I know how hard it can be to accept yourself, especially when it comes to these things. But there’s a lot you don’t know, and it could be a lot easier for you if you just gave them a chance.”

Ryan scowled at the forest floor, shadows dancing across it in the fire light. The raccoons weren’t trying to approach again the way he’d thought they would. Maybe Pete had something to do with that too.

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

“Yeah,” Pete sighed. “Maybe not. But it’s less lonely, when you let them.”

The short man disappeared with another loud pop and Ryan rubbed at his nose, something like cinnamon tickling at it. The winds kicked up again, and he tugged his two hoods tighter around his face, wrapped his ratty quilt tight, and willed the night to pass quickly.

 

 

…  
It was just a lucky coincidence that the full moon fell on a Sunday night, because there was no way the younger wolves would have been able to survive the day in public if they had too. Brendon was practically manic, bouncing off the walls and talking constantly. He was bugging the hell out of all of them, but that was okay. The moon hardly ever made Jon testy or restless. It mostly made him feel lazy. He could handle the tiny wolf bouncing around the apartment all day with his mind all sleepy and cloudy.

Spencer was irritable and restless enough for both of them, however. He spent the entire day stalking around the apartment, hot waves of irritation pouring off of him. Jon was pretty sure he had his canines out the whole time.

Zack got pretty grumpy on the day before the moon too, and the two went around and around all day. Zack eventually snapped some time around noon, canines coming out and eyes changing over, an honest to God growl thundering out of his throat, which was weird because Zack had astonishing amounts of self control. Spencer knew his place at least, and he took to slinking around the apartment instead, doing simple things to keep himself busy and grumbling quietly to himself.

Jon was watching though, and he could see the way Spencer’s shoulders tensed up whenever Brendon got a little too loud or a little too close. When Spencer looked like he was about to snap, Jon quickly grabbed Brendon and pulled him onto the couch. He sat on Brendon, making him protest and whine and flail around, but it also got Spencer to laugh and Zack to crack one of those tiny half grins that meant he was amused. When Brendon eventually gave up, Jon let him go and flopped down next to him. Brendon decided to get revenge or something through forced cuddling, because he curled up practically in Jon’s lap and tucked his head into Jon’s shoulder. Jon was actually a major fan of cuddling most of the time anyways, so he didn’t mind. Besides, the little guy was warm and soft. He couldn’t say no to that, especially after Brendon had figured out that yes, actually, deodorant was a really good idea.

Half a movie later (Jon wasn’t paying enough attention to know what movie it was), Zack flopped onto the couch next to them, and Brendon crawled across Jon’s lap and sprawled out on both of them. Zack just rolled his eyes and pet Brendon’s hair. It was sweet, and Jon would have taken a picture if his camera had been with him and not far, far away on the dresser in his bedroom.

Spencer shot them hesitant looks for a while, but it wasn’t ten minutes later that Spencer was crawling onto the couch next to them and curling up against Jon’s side. Jon buried his nose in Spencer’s hair and breathed in deep, catching the younger boy’s scent and a lot less irritation than had been there earlier. It made him feel happy.

“I love pack cuddling,” he announced to no one in particular. Zack ruffled his hair in response, and Brendon curled up the other way, legs curled up in Zack’s lap, so he could gnaw at Jon’s knee. Jon thought absently that humans would probably think that was really weird, but Jon knew what it meant. He leaned down and kissed the top of Brendon’s head, and that wasn’t weird either. Anyone who thought otherwise didn’t have a nice, happy pack, and Jon felt bad for them.

Jon was halfway to asleep when someone knocked on their apartment door, and everyone but Zack jumped. Spencer blinked at the door sleepily before shrugging and nuzzling his way back against the crook of Jon’s neck, which Jon wasn’t complaining about what so ever. Zack dumped Brendon off of his lap to go answer the door, and the younger wolf whined, sitting up to pout and look rumpled. His hair was sticking up funny where he’d been sleeping on it.

On the other side of the door was that kid, the one they found in the woods who stopped in from time to time and nobody knew his name. He seemed to look worse every time he showed up, and this time was no exception. His clothes were more ripped than before and even dirtier, and the circles under his eyes suggested he hadn’t been sleeping. Still, he raised his chin to look Zack in the eye and clenched his fists at his sides, as if this were all totally normal and he wasn’t a starving, beat up teenage boy showing up at a stranger’s house for the fourth or fifth time.

“I need to come out with you guys tonight,” he said solidly, not breaking eye contact. Zack mostly looked confused. “I have a hard time keeping control of myself with the full moon, and I don’t want anything to happen. I tried to attack that kid before-” He gestured to Brendon who cocked his head to the side as if he were confused, “-and next time it might be someone who can’t stop me.”

Zack was still giving him a curious look, but he moved out of the way to let the kid in through the door. “You’re with us tonight then,” he said. “We’re heading out in half an hour.”

The kid shrugged and beelined towards the bathroom. Seconds later, the sound of running water from the shower could be heard.

“Well,” Spencer said. “Nice to see he’s making himself feel at home.”

Jon elbowed him in the ribs.

 

 

…  
“Hey,” Eric elbowed Zack in the side and motioned to the phone hooked up to the wall. It was a flashback to the nineties, really, made out of yellow plastic with a long twisty cord. Zack nodded, popping off the cap and sliding a beer to someone. He put their five dollars in the cash register before taking the phone and slipping into the freezer, which was cold but helped dull the violent thud thud thud of the club.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Hey there handsome,” a female voice said, and Zack took a moment to remember where he knew it. “So I was thinking we could go to dinner tomorrow night.”

“What day is it again?” Zack asked. He was always a bit disoriented after the moon, even if he liked to pretend he wasn’t. The moon had been Sunday night, and he knew because he’d argued about Brendon the next morning about whether or not he had to go to school before agreeing that yes, it was fair to let him stay home after staying out all night. Was it still Monday? It might have been Tuesday. Either way, the night she was suggesting was in the middle of the week.

“It’s Wednesday,” she said, “So tomorrow is Thursday, which is an entirely reasonable night for dinner, isn’t it?”

Wednesday, damn. He’d lost a day. The lady chuckled through the line, and Zack found himself smiling.

“The moon messes me up a little bit too,” she said. “So tomorrow? I promise to have you home by midnight.”

He laughed. “Yeah, okay, Wednesday is good.”

“Thursday.”

“Shit."  He rubbed his hand over his face. He’d shaved that morning, but with the moon still so large it was in vain. His wolf side said no, no way, and the beard grew back immediately. It’d calm down in a few days, and he looked good with a beard. But did he look good enough for a date? Whatever, he was already making a fool of himself.

“You’re cute,” she said. “If I give you my address, will you pick me up at seven?”

He smiled again. This girl was spunky. “Only if you give me your name too.”

“Jennifer,” she said, and he hoped she was smiling too. She gave him the address and then hung up. Zack left the freezer and put the phone back on it’s cradle.

“I’m calling off tomorrow,” he said, and Eric smirked and winked at him. Zack rolled his eyes and sprayed him with the sink sprayer.

 

  
  
**Chapter 5**

  
  


Unlike all the other times they’d been graced with his presence, the homeless werewolf kid didn’t vanish within twelve hours. In fact he remained in the apartment on Thursday night, even though the full moon had been days ago on Sunday. By that point his presence was so casual that he fit right into the conversations and horsing around. Similar to the other times he’d been there, however, he remained obdurate in his mission to keep his name a secret. Zack didn’t even mind at this point. If they needed his attention they’d just tap him or say ‘hey you’ or something. It wasn’t much of a hassle, even though Zack would have really rather known the kid’s name.

What Zack did mind, though, was the way his entire pack was acting like morons. He was seriously regretting ever mentioning his plans for the evening.

“You should wear this one,” Brendon was sprawled out on his back, somehow taking up almost all of Zack’s king sized bed, pardon a corner that Spencer had claimed for himself. The youngest wolf waved a blue dress shirt around manically. The shirt would have fit Brendon like a dress, and it looked like a giant, stupid flag as he waved it around. Whatever. Zack was a big guy. He could admit that. “It’ll bring out your eyes,”

“My eyes are grey,” Zack said, taking the shirt away from him before he poked someone’s eye out with the hanger it was on. “And I don’t need your help to get ready. Go away,”

“You always need me,” Brendon said. Zack groaned, and Spencer got that look on that face, that stupid look that meant he was plotting something.

“I can fix this,” Spencer said after a moment. “Brendon give me your phone,”

Zack rolled his eyes and went into the bathroom to shower, deciding to take as long as he pleased because they were all driving him crazy. He turned the water up hot and pretended he couldn’t hear them bickering over the sound of the spray. When he finally got out half an hour later and got dressed, his room was pleasantly void of puppies. There was a strange scent in the apartment though. It turned out to be Sarah, Brendon’s little friend (or, “girlfriend” apparently, but Zack wasn’t sure he believed that yet), snuggling up with Brendon on the couch. It was kind of adorable.

“You really should iron your pants,” Spencer came out from wherever he’d been hiding and crossed his arms.

“Go away, Spence,”

“Here, put this on,” Jon sprayed some kind of cologne at Zack’s neck, and Zack swatted at him.

“Jon! For the love of- No! Knock it off,” he rubbed in vain at the now wet spot on his neck. Gross. He smelled like a cosmo magazine sample. Jon dove away from him and tossed himself over the back of the couch, landing haphazardly on top of no-name, who yelped, and then scowled and tried to shove him off.

Jon landed hard on the floor, and no-name smirked up at Zack. “Make sure you wear a condom,”

“Oh my God,” Zack groaned, rubbing at his temples. “That is it. I’m leaving,”

He watched as no-name got smacked with a pillow, courtesy of Jon Walker, while the boy shouted “We don’t want to take you to planned parenthood!” and Spencer giggled. At least Spencer had been right in his promise to ‘fix this.’ He invited Sarah over, and Zack hadn’t heard a peep out of Brendon the entire time. The kid was content to nuzzle his head against Sarah’s shoulder and mumble things about whatever movie they were watching on the TV.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t laughing a bit as he got into the car. His pack was full of idiots, but they were his idiots, and they were pretty cute. Despite being tormented by puppies, Zack was in a good mood all the way to Jennifer’s house. He even hummed along to the radio.

…  
Brendon clutched four sweaty five dollar bills in his fist and hung back while Shane’s car pulled out of the student parking lot. He didn’t wave; he was working on being cool. He’d earned the money when Shane and a few of his senior friends had dared him to do a handstand on his skateboard (Sarah had smacked his arm and said “Hell no, you’ll break your face” and he’d said “Hell nah, watch me”). He’d done it and held it for a solid fifteen seconds before his wrists started to ache and he’d lost his balance. His winter coat had kept him from getting scraped up, and he didn’t break his face. Plus he’d gotten twenty bucks, so it was worth it.

Then Shane had cursed and said he had to get to work, so anyone hitching a ride best get in the car. They all left, and Brendon figured it was time to head home too. He wasn’t grounded anymore, but he was still being careful.

It was snowing gently as he made his way down the sidewalk along the side of the school, heading in the direction of home. He liked when the air as cold and clear like this because he could smell literally everything. It was one of his favorite werewolf things. There was a chimney puffing smoke a ways away, and a squirrel hanging out at the edge of the pine tree scented woods that lined the back of the school, and a restaurant a few blocks away cooking bacon and eggs, and a few people around the corner of the school building, and…. anger. Huh. That was weird. Brendon still wasn’t entirely used to being able to pick up emotions with his nose, but it helped. Usually he felt a bit clueless because he had a hard time figuring out if people were mad at him or if they were just joking. It was nice that his nose could help him out now.

Anyways, there was anger close by, and voices if he focused. Brendon picked up the pace and ran down the rest of the sidewalk, backpack solidly thumping against his back and skateboard occasionally knocking into his hip from it’s position under his arm. Even with his enhanced hearing, as he rounded the corner he heard something so quiet that he wasn’t even sure it had been uttered.

“Leave me alone,” came a quiet murmur hidden under the jeers and laughs of some boys, both taller and wider than the boy they had backed against the brick exterior of the school building. That boy, it just so happened, was the bathroom kid. Brendon wondered why he was always running into this boy, but shrugged it off and hurried over.

“Hey,” Brendon said. The boys were sophomores too; Brendon recognized them from a few of his classes. They liked to laugh at him a lot, and not in the good way. “Hey, that’s not nice. Leave him alone,”

They turned to look at him, confused and amused, yet somehow also irritated expressions adorning their faces. One of them had his hand pressed hard into the bathroom kid’s shoulder, holding him back against the wall, and the other’s hand was threaded through the kid’s hair, messing it up and holding his head back.

“Fuck off. We’re his friends, ain’t that right?” the first one said. Brendon couldn’t remember their names for the life of him. It didn’t matter, because he knew they were lying. He’d been on the other end of this enough to know what was going on. When they turned away from him, Brendon stepped forward and shoved the first guy in the center of his back, making him stagger forwards a bit. Brendon could push pretty strong when he wanted to. The bathroom kid hissed in a breath from getting smashed against the wall, and Brendon regretted his action for a moment. It wasn’t his best idea maybe.

He really regretted it when the second guy yanked Brendon’s skateboard out of his hands and threw it into the street, banging it up awful and making a lot of clatter.

“Go fetch,” he snarled, or at least snarled in a human way, but it made Brendon’s heart stop in his chest for a moment, blood turning cold. Some tiny, paranoid part of him screamed ‘oh my god, they know,’ but he quickly realized they didn’t. He’d be dead if they did, probably.

Two strong hands shoved him back, and his hip slammed into the bike rack. The backs of his knees knocked against it next, and he toppled backwards, banging up his elbows when he landed on them. They shoved the bathroom kid down too, two strong hands throwing him down by his shoulders until the kid crumpled, and then the second kid kicked him in the stomach. Bathroom kid groaned quietly, but he didn’t make as much noise as Brendon was expecting him to.

The other kid kicked Brendon too and then snatched the money out of his hand and sneered “Aww, thanks loser.”  
They took the kid’s bag with them while they ran away, dumping it in a nearby trash can at the edge of the walk before sprinting off across the sports field. Brendon glared and growled low in his throat, not loud enough to be heard. It was going to be a pain to get that bag out of the tall, rank dumpster.

The kid was still laying on the ground, so Brendon hauled himself up and walked over to him.

“Hey,” he said, tilting his head and offering his hand down. “Come on, I’ll help you up,”

This was met with a ferocious glare from the boy on the ground, which almost made him flinch a little. He was trying to be nice. Why was this kid mad at him? After a moment the boy nodded and sat up, then took Brendon’s hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. His hands must have gotten skinned in the fall, because when they pulled away, Brendon’s own palm had a smear of blood across it. Oh well.

“Let’s get your bag,” Brendon said, walking over to the dumpster and lifting the lid to look inside. Luckily it was pretty full, so the bag was sitting up near the top. He still wasn't tall enough to reach, though. He had to jump and balance on the edge on his stomach, and then he could reach over and grab the black messenger bag from the mess of thrown out school lunches and bathroom tissue. Gross gross gross. If that smell ever vacated his nose, it would be a miracle.

“Here,” he said, tossing the bag over to bathroom kid, who had wandered over some time while Brendon had his ass in the air and head stuck in a dumpster. Great. Whatever.

Just as Brendon hopped down, a large truck came rumbling down the street. Brendon watched in horror as it’s left front wheel ran right over his upright skateboard, crunching it. Two of the wheels actually popped off, and the deck cracked right down the middle.

“Oh my God,” he said, horrified. “My life is a nightmare,”

He glanced at the kid in front of him, who promptly scowled and punched Brendon right in the stomach, hard. Brendon made some pathetic ‘oof’ sound and doubled over. He watched the kid sprint down the road on long, skinny legs and wondered ‘what the hell’ and thought ‘my life is a nightmare.’

 

 

…  
Brendon was still moping a bit when he got home. He’d taken his destroyed skateboard and shoved the pieces into his backpack. It seemed like a longer trip when he had to walk it, especially with the icy air stinging his cheeks and nose, but it also gave him plenty of time to brood. He was more angry than upset really. For one, those jack-offs stole his twenty dollars! They’d also broken his skateboard and humiliated him. And that kid. That stupid bathroom kid. Brendon had almost gotten his ass kicked, had gotten his skateboard broken and his money stolen, had climbed into a smelly horrible dumpster, and was probably on some list of victims to beat up now. He hadn’t even gotten a thank you or a smile. He’d gotten punched in the gut.

Well screw that kid.

Yeah, Brendon was still moping when he got back to the apartment. He was steaming. He was furious. He’d had a great day going, no fucked up head nonsense ruining his life for once, and then that had to go and happen. Brendon didn’t have the patience to deal with everyone in the apartment.

The strange wolf kid, who Brendon had taken to calling Frank for all intents and purposes in his mind until he found out the kid’s real name, sneered at him, “You reek,” and then went off to another room.

Well excuse him for having a shitty day. Frank didn’t even have to go to school (which was totally unfair, cause he was totally young enough to have to) so he shouldn’t be allowed to make any comments.

Next there was Zack, sniffing at him and making his concerned face. Brendon shrugged him off and headed to his room, but he bumped into Spencer along the way.

“Hey Spence,” he sighed, really trying to sound happy but somehow all the energy just drained from his voice. Besides, Spencer was making that concerned face at him too. Brendon was so sick of people being concerned for him. Spencer’s expression changed suddenly though. When he blinked and opened his eyes they weren’t human anymore. Wolf eyes. Uhm.

Brendon found himself crowded back against the wall. Spencer was sniffing him, which wasn’t necessarily weird, but it usually wasn’t this random or, uhm, forceful. Spencer pressed his face tight into Brendon’s neck, and Brendon squirmed. He knew he smelled gross like garbage and sweat and probably a little like anger, and he didn’t want Spencer that close when Brendon was that disgusting. Also, even though this was Spencer and practically his brother almost, something about having this larger, older boy pressing him against a wall and nuzzling his neck was waking something up that Brendon definitely didn’t want Spencer to catch scent of.

Dying of embarrassment, Brendon tried to pull away, but Spencer crowded him back tighter and growled low. Brendon froze, even though his skateboard was digging into his shoulder blade and his heart was a jackhammer in his chest, because those were totally Spencer’s canines scraping his throat.

“Spence…” he choked out, swallowing hard.

Spencer removed his face from Brendon’s neck and traveled down his arm. He pulled Brendon’s sleeve up enough to sniff at the pulse point on Brendon’s wrist, and Brendon tugged harder to get away. There were scars just a little farther up that he didn’t want Spencer to see. Apparently there were a lot of things that Brendon had to hide when people got too close to him. He hadn’t really thought of it before.

Spencer, apparently, didn’t want Brendon to move. His hand clasped around Brendon’s forearm tight enough that it felt like it might snap. It would definitely bruise.

“Spencer what are you doing?” Brendon asked wishing his voice would stop shaking. Spencer had dropped to his knees and had his nose buried in the palm of Brendon’s hand, which was disgusting, because Brendon couldn’t remember the last time he’d washed his hands, and he’d been touching a dumpster earlier that day. Now Spencer was… licking… his hand..? Which was even worse, and Brendon was pretty sure that was the hand that had blood on it from the stupid bathroom kid. Ew. Ew. Seriously ew.

“Spencer!”

Spencer growled again, but this time Brendon growled back and shoved him. Spencer toppled back onto his ass and smacked his head against the wall. That’s when Zack appeared in the mouth of the hall. Zack could definitely hear Brendon’s heart hammering in his chest, and that wasn’t even an exaggeration.

“What the hell are you doing?” Zack asked, not looking angry but more like confused.

Neither answered. Brendon didn’t actually know what had just happened, and Spencer didn’t seem to be talking. They just stared up at Zack, frozen with wide eyes, until the elder huffed and walked away.

Brendon turned back to Spencer, who had gotten to his feet and was rubbing the back of his head. He’d gotten taller and was kind of intimidating now, with the anger Brendon could smell pulsing through him.

“What the hell?” he asked anyways.

Spencer huffed and shoved past him, muttering “I thought I smelled something.”

 

 

....  
The clock on his bedside table bled the time (6 a.m.) all over the room, which was still dark in those uneasy moments before the sunrise. He blinked to try and figure out why he was awake so early (he’d only gone to bed five hours before), but then he heard screaming, and it all kind of snapped together.

It took Zack all of three seconds to throw himself out of bed, pull on a shirt to go with the sweat pants he’d worn to bed, and dart towards the source of panic in his apartment. In that short amount of time, the screaming had turned into arguing.

“What the hell-”

“-was not trying to eat you-”

“-naked!”

“Oh shut up!”

“You shut up, you-”

Zack opened the door just in time to catch Spencer as he lunged at the other kid, both of them starting to wolf out with their lips pulled back to show canines and their eyes switched over. Spencer had his claws jutting out of his hands, and Zack couldn’t see whether the other boy did or not, since he was pretty well cowering under the blankets. Also, Spencer was entirely naked.

Zack caught him around the middle before they made contact and threw him down on the other bed. When Spencer thrashed around and tried to bite him, Zack pressed him down with a forearm in his throat and growled. This wasn’t normal kid Spencer that Zack could just yell at when he acted up. This was an out of control Spencer who was going to hurt someone and needed his alpha to snap him out of it.

It worked the way Zack knew it would. Spencer visibly shrunk under him, eyes fading to normal but growing huge, showing someone young and frightened and definitely more human than a moment before. Good. His claws retracted from where they’d been digging into Zack’s forearm, and Zack instantly felt the cuts start to heal themselves.

“Breathe,” he murmured to him. Spencer nodded, swallowed hard, and took a deep, shaky breath as Zack slowly let him go. He stepped back to allow Spencer to sit up, and now that the chaos was over and Spencer was entirely himself again, the kid looked embarrassed. He pulled a pillow onto his lap for modesty, propped his elbows on his knees, and dropped his face into his hands. His long hair fell down like curtains to help him hide.

That was when Zack noticed the torn up clothes all over Spencer’s bed, but before he could think about it-

“What the hell was that!?” the boy on the other bed exploded. Zack snapped his attention back to him.

“Calm down, kid,”

“No! He tried to eat me!”

“No I didn’t!” Spencer yelled back.

“You’re such a creep! You attacked me!”

“It was an accident!”

“Enough!” Zack cut them both off, his voice loud enough that he’d probably get a complaint from their neighbors. They were going to wake up the entire building at this rate. He could worry about that later.

“He didn’t know what he was doing,” Zack told the kid. “Sometimes we lose control of ourselves, but he wasn’t trying to hurt you-”

“What’s going on?” Zack sighed and turned around to find Brendon in the doorway, eyes half the size of his face. Jon appeared as a head propped up on Brendon’s shoulder, looking as awake as he ever did at this hour in the morning (which, for the record, was not awake at all).

“Everything’s fine,” Zack reassured them.

“Fine!?” no name practically growled, which was interesting. The kid acted so entirely human most of the time that Zack wouldn’t believe he was a wolf without having seen him change over. He usually didn’t growl or do anything like that. “He attacked me!”

“No I didn’t…” Spencer muttered from behind his hands.

“Okay, put the canines away!” Zack said, stepping between them.

“I’m not the one who-”

“ENOUGH!” he yelled again, louder this time with a growl at the end that made every person in the room flinch. “We’re all going to relax and talk about this like rational people,”

“Yeah, no,” no name threw back the covers and jumped to his feet. “You guys seem normal enough, but you’re freaks! You’re monsters! She was right, and I should have known better than to think I could trust you,”

The kid grabbed his bag off the floor and slammed his way out of the apartment before Zack could stop him. It was probably convenient for him that he’d never unpacked his bag. He’d probably been waiting to run the entire time, Zack realized.

“Uhm…” Brendon said.

“We’re talking about this,” Zack directed that to Spencer, unsure of what had really happened… what to do about no name… what to do about any of this…

“Whatever,” Spencer got up and shoved past Brendon and Jon in the doorway. He slammed the bathroom door behind him. Zack heard the lock click into place, but he’d been woken up before the sun, damn it. He wasn’t giving in that easy.

He went into the hall and sighed at the cracked door frame before pounding his fist on the door. He didn’t use enough force to hurt the wood anymore than it already was.

“Spencer. We’re going to talk about this.”

“Fuck off!”

Zack growled. “Spencer James Smith!”

“No!”

He was moments away from ripping the door off its hinges, but then Jon’s hand curled around his arm and the calming energy hit him hard. Jon was good at that; it was something he’d learned from his father, who’d always been the caregiver of the pack while Jon’s mother was the alpha. Zack took a deep breath and stepped back.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. It’s Saturday, and it’s early. Go back to bed guys,”

Jon squeezed gently before turning to Brendon and wrapping his arm around the boy’s shoulders.

“Come on, B,” Jon said, pulling him back to Brendon’s room, which the two had been sharing since no-name temporarily moved in. Zack watched them go and then returned to his own room. Maybe he could get some more rest before dealing with any of this. Before he had to figure out whether or not to track down the kid, before he had to force Spencer to talk to him, before he had to figure out what was going on. As soon as he closed his eyes, though, his phone started ringing. He growled at it, but the caller I.D. read “Maggie Walker,” and she was probably the only person in the world that he wanted to talk to. She’d raised tons of puppies. She’d have advice, if not answers.

Zack sat up and held the phone to his ear, “Hey.”

 

…  
Spencer disappeared while everyone else was still asleep under the pretense of going to study. He took his backpack with him, but he ended up wandering town on foot instead. He made his way to Starbucks after forty-five minutes or so, and he knew it was too early for Jon to be at work, so he sighed and pushed his way inside. Maybe coffee would clear his mind. After that morning, he could really do with some clarity. He’d actually blacked out. One minute he’d been startled awake by the homeless kid’s screaming, and the next Zack had him pinned down and was telling him to breathe.

He had probably lunged at the kid, but he couldn’t remember it. Just like earlier that week with Brendon. He didn’t know what happened, but suddenly he had Brendon shoved against a wall. It was like his body was moving without his consent. He felt a dozen kinds of messed up at the moment.

It didn’t help either that the sky was a thick blanket of clouds above them and had been for at least three weeks straight. The last full moon had barely been visible, and he liked to think that was the reason he’d felt off kilter and overly-wolfy lately. He hadn’t fully exhausted himself on the last full moon, and now the extra energy was bubbling out in dreams and growls and irrational boners, just like puberty again.

Even just then, standing there listening to his classmates from World Civ (who’d just so happened to be in Starbucks that morning too) talk about how Yearly’s older cousin was twenty-one as of a week ago and could totally hook them up for the party (Spencer had thought things would change more in college, but nothing really had), Spencer felt like something was crawling under his skin. It itched.

Maybe a party was exactly what he needed, Spencer thought, just as Anna was saying goodbye and Yearly mentioned going to dick around in the library until office hours opened up for one of his math classes. Maybe he needed to go out with friends for a night, get away from his pack and out of that tiny damned apartment. He could get drunk, get laid, and get the itch curling under his skin to tone down.

“Hey wait,” he caught Yearly’s arm as gently as he could manage, since humans were fragile. He stopped and looked at Spencer, raising a blond eyebrow and looking back at Spencer. “What’s the address for the party again?” he asked. Yearly beamed.

After a few more hours he was totally bored of wandering around with his thoughts and his fingers were starting to go numb from the cold. He decided that he needed to go home and talk to Zack about the weird stuff that was happening and also help track down the kid who’d run off.

When he finally made it (one long, cold bus ride later) the apartment was entirely void of anyone that he was looking for. The kid was still gone, and Zack was gone, and even Brendon was gone. The only one there was Jon, who must have had a quick on-call shift during the lunch rush or something, and had just gotten home. He was sitting on the couch in his work uniform, including a Starbuck’s visor decorated with a few stupid pins and nestled into his messy brown hair, and he smelled like a coffee bean. Jon’s thumbs were tapping away at his phone, but he glanced up and smiled when Spencer walked in. Spencer raised his hand in greeting and decided to sniff around the apartment, just to be sure, even though it felt like his senses were somehow even stronger and he was pretty certain that Zack wasn’t in the apartment.

He wasn’t, as Spencer had originally guessed. Spencer felt even more guilty at that, somehow. What if Zack was out there trying to fix the mess Spencer had created? After dumping his bag full of assignments on his bedroom floor, Spencer went back to the living room and collapsed on the couch next to Jon.

“What’s up?” he asked, and he blocked out the tiny part of his brain that was panicking over the dreams and just enjoyed the comfortable feeling Jon’s presence pumped into his veins.

“The kid left,” Jon said, “But he might come back. So I’m not sure if my bed is actually my bed right now, or if I’m still bunking it with Brendon, so… I almost just said screw it and took a nap on your bed, but I ended up here instead,” He yawned, and Spencer put his arm across the back of the couch, not quite resting around Jon’s shoulders, but almost.

There was a comfortable quiet in which Jon stared down at his cellphone, which buzzed on occasion. Spencer sat there next to him, not entirely awake but not asleep either. He mostly just stared blankly at the wall and let his thoughts wander away with him.

It was quite a while later when he said, voice kind of rough, “I didn’t mean to,”

Jon set his phone down, screen down, and pressed the silence button with his thumb. He was the kind of guy who gave his full attention whether people needed it or not. Spencer wasn’t sure what he needed.

“I know,” Jon said after a moment of studying Spencer, which Spencer spent staring down and to the left and definitely not looking at Jon. “You wanna talk about it?”

No, not really, Spencer realized. He shook his head.

“You’ve been acting weird, yknow,” Jon offered, still looking at Spencer, Spencer still not looking back.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he answered. Jon sighed.

“Okay, puppy,” Jon nudged Spencer’s arm out of the way and pulled him into a one armed hug. Spencer let himself be pulled close to the older boy’s side. He relaxed for a moment and closed his eyes, letting himself relax and feeling a headache melting away behind his eyes. He let his head fall onto Jon’s shoulder and felt Jon’s warmth radiating through the hooded sweatshirt he was wearing. Spencer breathed deeply, and he was confused when his vision went a little red and a growl rose up in his throat. The word ‘mine’ flashed through his mind, and he had the sudden urge to set his teeth against Jon’s throat to tell him that, but.

Oh God. Oh no, not this again. Spencer practically threw himself off of the couch in an attempt to get as far away from Jon and his own messed up wolf thoughts as possible. His vision was still off, too sharp, meaning his eyes had changed over. His hands were shaking.

Jon was staring at him, obviously surprised, and Spencer couldn’t blame him.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said. He considered sitting back down, this time with space left between them, but thought better of it. He needed to go somewhere that Jon’s scent wasn’t filling up his nose and making his haunches rise up. This reaction was so weird. It was like he was allergic to him (to everyone, really…) lately. This was the same damned thing that had happened to Brendon, and maybe the same thing that had happened with that kid earlier. Spencer didn’t want to think about why.

“Whoa…” Jon said slowly, cautiously. His brow was furrowed with worry. “What did I do…?”

“Nothing. It’s not you. I have a paper to write. I’m going to start on that,” Spencer said and went off to their bedroom. He might as well get a start on his assignments anyways. He wanted to hang out with Jon, but it didn’t seem like his wolf side was going to let that happen tonight.

“Dude, you sound like Brendon,” Jon’s voice called after him. Then there were footsteps, and Spencer heard him as he entered the room. “And he’s a shitty liar too,” Jon sat down on Spencer’s bed, a bit too close to Spencer, and Spencer really wished he wouldn’t. “I’m worried about you,”

“I’m fine,” Spencer said. His voice was stiff.

“You’re acting really weird,” Jon responded.

“I’m just stressed out. I have finals coming up, and that weird kid keeps lurking around, and he shouldn’t be out there on his own, Zack’s in a mood, and everything sucks,” It was all true, but not necessarily the whole truth. Spencer felt slightly guilty even though it felt good to get that stuff off his chest.

“Zack is only in a mood because you’re in a mood,” Jon told him, totally unhelpful. “Can I help?”

Spencer sighed and shook his head. Some disillusioned part of him was hoping Jon would have magical advice to make everything better. But even though Jon was really helpful at times, and magic did exist, there were limits to the universe and Spencer had to remember that. Besides, in his current condition, letting his happiness rely on Jon Walker wouldn’t be the wisest decision. Those weird dreams were still happening periodically, and that (on top of everything else) was freaking him out.

“I need to get freaking laid,” he groaned, mostly to himself. He only realized that it sounded like he was answering Jon’s question when he head a startled snort-laugh from his friend.

“Well I’m more than happy to oblige-” Jon started. He sounded like he was joking, but Spencer vividly remembered the awkward kiss that had happened on his birthday, and… yeah. He didn’t want to talk about this.

“Fuck off,” He said instead, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “I’m going to call my mom about Thanksgiving, and then I’m going to study for my finals, so I’m going to be totally lame and boring. Go bother someone else,”

Jon hadn’t stopped smirking, and Spencer vaguely wanted to smack it off of him. Spencer nearly growled without realizing it when Jon ruffled his hair, but the older boy seemed oblivious.

“Don’t party too hard, puppy,” he said, and then he was gone. Thank God. Good riddance. Spencer heaved a pained sigh and clicked his mom’s contact, then he listened to his phone ring and ring and ring…

…  
There had been a time when it made sense for Sarah’s dad to trust them alone in her bedroom, when all they did was read comics and watch movies and throw darts at the wall, but from his current position Brendon didn’t think that he should trust them as much anymore. Brendon was pretty sure that other teenagers were getting up to much worse things than they were right at that moment, but that didn’t stop the Mormon-raised part of his brain from chanting things like ‘sin sin sin’ and ‘hell hell hell’ and ‘celibacy celibacy celibacy’ (honestly, his brain was having a bit of trouble rhythmically chanting that last one, but the point remains).

Another small part of his brain kind of hoped that his Mormon-part of his brain was what was keeping him from enjoying their current festivities. Maybe he was just too distracted to really enjoy Sarah laying on top of him on the bed, their lips moving together, their hips shifting against each other (or her hips, mostly. he was just kind of laying there). Her hand was in his hair, for God’s sake, and he’d read enough advice articles on the internet to know that he should be really enjoying this.

He really wasn’t enjoying it though. Well, sure, the kissing was nice. But he was kind of distracted with his Mormon brain chanting disapproval at him. There were also boobs pressed into his chest (cloth covered boobs, but still), and the more he tried to forget that there were boobs, the more he thought about them. The boys in the porn he’d watched on Jon’s computer that one time didn’t have boobs, and Brendon was trying to focus on that. No boobs, he told himself. No boobs, no boobs, no boobs.

The problem was that as certain as Brendon was about his sexuality (99.9% sure, like those clorox commercials) he still kind of hoped that he was wrong.

“Are you okay?” Sarah pulled back and rested the tip of her nose against Brendon’s cheek. Brendon swallowed hard and tried not to think about how his mouth didn’t taste like his mouth. How she smelled fruity and amazing and like a girl. How this was kind of definitely confirming that he was gay.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “Yeah, this is awesome,” He really hoped that she believed him. She made a quiet humming noise before nodding and going back to kissing him. He did his best to act like he knew what he was doing and kiss back properly, but that was just another worry on his mind. He had no idea if he was doing this right.

They’d never kissed like this before. It was always simple kisses exchanged at their lockers or at Shane’s car or on the couch when Zack wasn’t paying attention to them. This was the first time in the few weeks they’d been dating that they’d done what could actually be considered making out. On Sarah’s bed. Laying down.

“You can move your hands if you wanna,” Sarah whispered to him, taking his hand and guiding it up to cup her breast through her shirt.

“O-oh,” he said quietly, because he really didn’t wanna move his hands, thank you very much. They’d been comfortable resting lifelessly at his sides. “Okay…”

She laughed and pecked his lips. “You don’t have to be nervous,”

“Okay,”

“You’re so cute,” They were kissing again, just like that. Brendon tried really hard to imagine that he was kissing a guy (that he was kissing Shane, actually) but between ADHD and his handful of boob, he couldn’t focus enough to get into it. He was so screwed.

Brendon didn’t really want to keep his hand in it’s current position, so he took Sarah’s advice and moved them. He let them slide up to her shoulders and then down her back. He stopped right at her lower back, but then she shifted, and… oh. Brendon totally accidentally grabbed her ass.

She laughed against his mouth and kissed him again, and he tried to keep up. Then she rolled her hips down into his, and Brendon just happened to catch her scent, and she was totally turned on. Oh shit. Her heart was hammering and the sound filled Brendon’s ears. Boomboomboomboomboom. It gave him a headache.

He broke away under the guise of catching his breath, and she let her face rest against his neck. His wolf brain perked up and said, ‘nah man, too close’ and he felt panicky. Necks weren’t as important to humans as they were to wolves, but Brendon had no idea how to tell his brain that (that she wasn’t going to bite him or claim him or whatever his instincts were freaking out about), so instead he squirmed quickly out from under Sarah and plopped down onto the floor next to the bed.

“Uhm…” she said. When Brendon glanced up at her, she was frowning at him. She smelled confused and kind of pissed off, and still turned on too.

He forced a nervous laugh and focused on the TV that was playing across the room. “I love this show…” he said in what he hoped was a convincing tone. An old rerun of George Lopez was playing.

“Uh huh…” she said slowly.

“Yup,” Brendon said.

They spent the next half hour watching George Lopez on her bedroom floor, Brendon trying to act like he was intently focused and interested in what was going on in the show (which he'd never actually watched before then), and Sarah sitting next to him all confused and squinting at Brendon occasionally with an expression he couldn’t figure out.

 

 

…  
The weird kid never came back to the apartment that night, and Jon had shrugged and slept in his own bed again. Spencer was tired, but he couldn’t seem to actually fall asleep. He just kind of laid there for what felt like a long time, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the noise of the town around him.

Brendon wasn’t asleep either, and Spencer considered getting up and talking to him. He kept making tiny, shuffly noises in his room across the hall. But Spencer kind of wanted to vent, and Brendon smelled all upset. Spencer didn’t know how to feel with Brendon’s upsettedness on top of his own, and he didn’t want to make anything worse.

He was too tired to move anyways. He stayed where he was.

He was worried about where the wolf kid had run off to, but he was trying not to think about it too much. Spencer remembered sleepwalking when he was younger, (when he was upset about starting school, when his grandma had died, when his dad had gotten laid off his job for a while) and he was worried that if he thought about it too much, he’d wake up naked in the woods somewhere, because he’d decided to go looking for the kid himself in wolf form.

There was a snuffling noise next to him and Jon groaned before flipping over.

“You’re still awake?” he asked into the darkness. Spencer could see him just fine, as if the lights were on. Jon looked sleepy and disoriented. He smelled distressed, like he’d been having a bad dream. Spencer wondered if it was late enough for the dream part of his sleep cycle, and then he realized it was almost three am.

“Yeah,” Spencer whispered back. “You okay?”

Jon made an affirmative noise from between pressed lips. He rubbed at his eyes and sat up. Spencer could hear his heartbeat hammering a bit too fast, a bit too hard.

“Want to share?” Jon asked suddenly, voice quiet but not quite a whisper, and it felt too loud. “Pack togetherness can help with sleep and stuff. You need some rest,”

Spencer blinked and sat up on his elbows. “Are you asking to cuddle?” he asked. “You’re much more coherent when you’re awake,”

Jon was pouting at him now; he even made a whiny noise in his throat. Spencer rolled his eyes and scooted over in the bed.

“C’mon then. Pack togetherness, and all that,”

Jon grinned kind of sheepishly before rolling to his feet and crawling into Spencer’s bed next to him. Spencer was pretty tired, and maybe Jon was right about pack cuddling helping to induce sleep. He curled close against the older boy’s side and let his eyes fall shut. They were both asleep within minutes.

 

 

…  
“We need to talk,”

The thing was, as much as Spencer agreed that they probably needed to talk about what was going on, and that it might be nice to have someone tell him he wasn’t crazy, the idea of actually talking about it was kind of unnerving. Kind of exhausting. Spencer couldn’t just open his mouth and say, “Yeah, so, I googled my symptoms, and I’m either schizophrenic or turning into some sort of mega wolf creature, like spider man.” Zack was going to think he was insane. Spencer was already pretty sure he was insane. He didn’t want to talk about it, but everyone else had locked themselves away for the afternoon, and Spencer was cornered there in the living room. He didn’t really have a choice.

“C’mon, sit,” Zack said, settling himself down on the couch slowly. It reminded Spencer a lot of his dad, how he used to move around a bit slower than usual when he had to put in more hours at work and his back was sore or something. Zack had been working a lot. That made sense. Spencer sat on the couch next to him and picked at a ball of fuzz that was eradicating itself from the cushion.

“It’s pretty obvious that something’s going on with you,” Zack said all matter-of-factly. “And I think it would be beneficial to hear what’s going on from you rather than just trying to guess,”

There was that phenomenon where when someone asked what your favorite movie was, you’d automatically forget every movie you’d ever seen. That was kind of what happened to Spencer in that moment, because while he’d spent a lot of time thinking about what was going on, he suddenly couldn’t think of a single way to verbalize it.

“I… I don’t really know…” he said, because that was the truth. At least he had a concept of the fact that he didn’t know what was going on.

“Alright,” Zack sighed a bit. He sounded tired. “Is this a wolf thing? Or is this a teenager thing?”

Spencer rolled his eyes, not really on purpose. It was just a reflex. He felt stupid for some reason, and suddenly irritated.

“I’m just stressed out about a lot of stuff, but. I don’t know. Whenever I get upset, it’s like I lose control of myself and it kind of just comes out… yknow?” He risked a sideways glance at Zack, who looked thoughtful.

“So it’s both,” he noted, and Spencer nodded.

“Kind of,”

“Well, that’s something, at least,” Zack said. “What happened with… that kid, the other day. What was that?”

Spencer groaned internally and felt the random need to kick the coffee table in front of them. He didn’t, but he did slouch in his seat a bit. “I don’t know. I was having this weird dream, and then when I woke up he was screaming and I was in the wrong body, but I don’t remember how it happened. And uhm…”

“You’ve gotten bigger,” Zack mentioned. Spencer wasn’t sure whether Zack was referring to his human self or his wolf self, but both had experienced a bit of a growth spurt, so he just nodded. He held his arms out in front of him and looked at how his long sleeves ended before his wrists now. He’d gotten taller, too. Just a bit.

“It’s happened a few times,” he felt kind of sheepish talking about it, even though that didn’t make any sense, and Spencer couldn’t believe that he’d actually just thought the word “sheepish” in reference to himself. “If I wake up in wolf form, my clothes are all ripped up. Normally I’d just wake up squeezed into them, but… I guess I’m too big for that now…?”

“You’re only a year old,” Zack said. “You shouldn’t have grown that much yet. It usually takes years,”

Spencer shrugged. “I’m going to run out of clothes at this rate,”

“You’re already outgrowing them anyways, kid,” Zack grinned a bit and shook his head. “I’m going to talk to Maggie about this. She might have a better idea about what’s going on,”

Spencer searched his memory for the name. “Jon’s mom?” he came up with after a few moments.

Zack nodded. “She practically turned her home into a wolf shelter. If anyone knows how to handle puppies, it’s her,”

Sighing and slouching farther down, Spencer said, “I can’t believe I’m hitting a growth spurt at eighteen…”

Zack just laughed and ruffled his hair as he stood. “Late bloomer,”

 

 

…  
There was a strong, warm breeze and a cluster of leaves where Ryan was expecting a loud ‘pop’ and cloud of purple smoke, but the air still carried the scent of cinnamon, so Ryan knew that a fey visitor was on his way. He frowned when a small person materialized next to him on the abandoned two a.m. sidewalk. Nothing stayed open past nine p.m. in this town except for the bars, which only stayed open until eleven. There was a mall halfway between this town and the next that stayed open late enough, but it wasn’t close enough to offer company to the empty small town main street (appropriately named ‘main street.’ this town was adorable). The only thing keeping Ryan and the snowy roads company were orange pools of light from ancient street lamps and a strange man that he didn’t recognize.

“You’re not Pete,” Ryan said, squinting at the man next to him.

The man was short and kind of pudgy. There was orange hair peeking out from under a flappy hat that had to be keeping him warm. Ryan envied that and the man’s red flannel jacket. He hadn’t stolen any better clothes from the apartment in his hasty escape, so he was stuck with dirty, ripped up, too thin clothing. He shivered.

“Pete has bad days,” the guy said with a small shrug. “That’s why I’m here,”

“So if he’s the fairy prince or whatever, who are you?” Ryan kicked at a chunk of ice, and it went skittering down the sidewalk. It hopped into the road and then fell into the gutter. Ryan frowned at it.

“Royal advisor,” the guy said, grinning wide as if he were proud of himself or something. Ryan rolled his eyes. “Appointed by the Queen herself,”

“Uh huh…” Ryan said, getting quickly bored with the conversation. He’d wanted to talk to Pete; he liked Pete. But this guy just wasn’t going to work. “Well, you can poof off to wherever you came from. I’m fine,”

The guy shrugged and pulled his hat back down by the flaps when a harsh wind threatened to blow it away. Ryan wrapped his hoodie tighter around himself and shivered.

“Let’s go get hot chocolate,” the guy said with a deciding nod. “Hot chocolate makes everything better. My name’s Patrick, by the way. Come on,”

Before Ryan knew what was happening, Patrick grabbed him by the arm and snapped his fingers. Just like that they were gone, swept away with the wind and a bundle of leaves, everything smelling like cinnamon.

…  
“Mom, hey,” Spencer said, grinning too wide and feeling like an idiot. He’d been trying to reach his family for a while though, and this was the first time he’d gotten through. He was excited.

“Spence,” she answered. “Hi sweetie, how are you?” They talked for a while, exchanging formalities. She asked about his health and about college and if he had a girlfriend and if he was eating. He asked about his sisters and his dad and his grandfather, and how was Indiana and what did their winter look like. Was it snowing.

An irrational part of his mind thought that he could catch the scent of her emotions all the way across the country, or through the phone, or something. After a moment he realized that no, he wasn’t that much of a super wolf freak, it was just her tone that was off. With his other senses being more heightened lately, it was hard to remember simple human things like that. Tone of voice, short answers, a sense of disinterest.

Spencer shook his head and told himself that he was imagining it.

“So I was thinking about flying there for Thanksgiving,” Spencer said after a good amount of time asking questions to keep the conversation going. He was kind of afraid to stop. While he talked, he paced the kitchen idly and put away small things that had been left around. Cereal boxes go in the cupboard. Spoons go in the drawer. Dirty bowls go in the sink, and he started the hot water just as a head start. He might as well. He’d finished all of his assignments that morning, and he didn’t have to start panicking about finals until after the holiday. He had a few days to breathe.

Thanksgiving was four days away. Spencer had the date circled in the calendar on the fridge, and he had a list of possible flights for the occasion sitting on the desk in his and Jon’s room. He hadn’t mentioned it to Zack yet, but this was his family. He was sure Zack would understand.

“I’m not sure that would be a good idea, Spencer,” his mom said, voice slightly tinny through the cellphone speaker. Spencer’s hand stilled on the magnet it was messing with.  
“Oh… really?” he asked.

“The situation is… complicated,” she said. “You know that,”

Oh. Right. Complicated. He wanted to ask what she was talking about. He wanted to say, ‘no, I don’t know that.’ But he didn’t, because if things got worse, he didn’t want to be responsible. There was a tense, awkward moment, before his mom continued.

“Your father is working a lot. He’s tired. And your grandfather is having trouble with his memory again,”

Spencer wondered if his grandfather would remember him. Maybe, but maybe not.

“And the girls are still working on adjusting to their new life here,”

‘Their new life without you,’ is what Spencer heard. But… no. He scowled shook his head and told himself to knock it off. They hadn’t moved to the Midwest because Spencer had turned into a werewolf. That was a coincidence. They hadn’t moved to get away from them. He was the one who’d wanted to stay behind, and he had to remember that. He did this to himself.

“Maybe Christmas,” Spencer said. His mom made a noncommittal humming noise, and he chose to ignore it. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been this. He’d call his dad’s phone next time and hope for the best.

“Okay well,” he looked around the clean apartment and eyed the two bowls in the sink forlornly. “I have a lot to get done. I’ll talk to you later,”

“Sure thing, Spence,”

“Okay. Bye mom, I love you,” He held his breath and waited, feeling the tight lump in his throat trying to suffocate him. His skin itched. There was a beep and then a dial tone. She’d just hung up, just like that.

The itch under his skin turned into a burning that rushed down both of his arms and into his chest. He looked down to see his cell phone, clutched so tight in his fist that the metal had broken and the glass had shattered.

“Fuck,” he muttered angrily at himself. His claws were protruding from his hands and after he blinked, his vision tinged red and turned sharper. Too sharp. Too much.

“Fuck!” he yelled, throwing his phone hard because if he didn’t move he was going to burst out of his skin. It wasn’t enough though, even as his cell shattered against the kitchen wall. He didn’t know why he was overreacting like this, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He was shaking. He couldn’t breathe. He-

“Spencer…” and then Jon was right there, under his hands, and Spencer had him shoved back against the wall. His hands were on Jon’s throat. Jon’s eyes were wide and his scent was scared. When he opened his mouth to speak, Spencer saw his canines.

He didn’t know how they’d gotten there, where Jon had even come from. He’d only blinked, and then… he must have blacked out again. A growl ripped its way up through his throat, and Jon’s heartbeat hammered heavier in his chest.

Spencer blinked again, and then they’d moved a bit. Jon’s hand was on his throat, his thumb rubbing the side of his neck. He seemed to be in the middle of a sentence, and Spencer caught the end. “-with me. Stay with me, puppy. It’s okay, Spence. Breathe,”

Breathe. Right. He could do that. He stepped back, away from Jon, and took a deep breath. It felt shaky in his lungs. He felt shaky on his legs. His hands were trembling.

“Again,” Jon said, stepping forward and getting too close. Closecloseclose. Too much. Everything was too much.

“Hey,” Jon’s voice called him back as his vision started tunneling out. “Breathe. It’s okay. Don’t wolf out on me, Spence, you’re wearing my favorite shirt. Come on,”

Jon’s voice was light, and it managed to startle a laugh out of Spencer. Something seemed a bit more right after that, as if Spencer’s head had been screwed on the right way again. He took another deep breath and rubbed his hands over his face.

“Oh my God. I just… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I don’t even know how-,”

“Hey,” there was Jon again, pushing his way into Spencer’s personal space and pulling him close. Spencer didn’t mind. Jon’s hug giving complex was kind of sweet, and the tight feel of his arms around Spencer’s shoulders made breathing come easier. “It’s okay. You’re okay, puppy. Just breathe,”

Breathing. Right. Spencer could do that. It didn’t matter that he’d just blacked out and pinned Jon to a wall, like some kind of out of control beast. Rogue. Zack had used the word rogue a long time ago, when he was talking about wolves who lost control. Wolves who ended up killing people. Oh my God, Spencer was going rogue.

“Shhh,” Jon said, hand running over Spencer’s hair, and Spencer realized that he’d been whining. God. He was such a mess. At least he wasn’t so tall that Jon couldn’t hug him properly. It was lame, and he was embarrassed for himself, but it was working. He didn’t have to admit anything out loud.

“You want to talk about it?” Jon asked.

Hell no. Spencer shook his head, and Jon squeezed him gently.

“Alright. Just breathe then,”

Breathing. Right. Spencer could do that.

 

 

…  
They were leaning against the bike racks, and Brendon was hosting a battle inside his brain again. He was leaning with the backs of his thighs against the too cold metal. Sarah was standing between his legs, one hand curled around his shoulder and the other slipped into the back pocket of his jeans. She smelled good, like peppermint gum and her shampoo and just Sarah. It was warm out, for November, and even though the metal he was leaning on was biting him through his jeans, the air around them wasn’t uncomfortable with their winter coats and shared body heat. It was the last day of school before Thanksgiving break, too. They were free for a whole week. Things should have been great.

Things weren’t that great. His brain was all kinds of messed up. It had been a bad day anyways, the kind where he didn’t want to get out of bed, he didn’t have any energy, he didn’t talk a whole lot, he didn’t eat. He didn’t want to do anything. He was getting so used to these days that he’d stopped wondering ‘why’ and just rolled with it. Sarah had noticed though, and making out was supposed to be cheering him up, he was pretty sure. He appreciated the thought at least, but he kind of missed the point in their relationship where all they did was talk about lame superhero movies and throw things at each other.

Well, part of him did. Another part was shouting at him, yelling ‘SIN SIN SIN’ even louder than last time, and another part seemed to be glaring at him and saying ‘if you weren’t a gay loser you’d be enjoying this. What the hell is wrong with you?’ Another part of him was freaking out that they were making out on school property (yes, it was after the school day was over, but he was pretty sure the rules still applied, and he’d rather not get another call to home, thank you very much. even if Zack was cooler about it than his parents would be. he was trying not to push).

“You know you’re supposed to kiss back, right?” Sarah asked after a moment, pulling away enough to talk.

“I am,” Brendon said. His hands were starting to ache where they were settled on the bike rack to keep them both steady.

“Not really,” she said. She sounded kind of mad. Sarah didn’t get mad often.

“Sorry,”

“Are you even into this?” she asked him.

“Yeah, totally,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she didn’t respond after that, just stood there and frowned at him. He felt squeamish under the surveillance. “Sorry,”

She shook her head and leaned back in. They were kissing again, and this time Brendon made an effort to kiss back. It wasn’t awful. It just wasn’t… magical… or anything. It was fine.

After a few minutes of Brendon trying to move his mouth against hers the right way, she suddenly pulled back from the kiss, reached down, and squeezed him between his legs. Brendon yelped and jumped back, because what the hell? What? That was his- She’d just- What the hell? She was glaring at him, as if it was he who had just accosted her in the school parking lot.

“I knew it!” she said. “You’re not even into this,”

“Yeah I am, I just-,”

“Save it,” she snapped. “Brendon, if you didn’t want to make out with me, all you had to do was tell me. What the hell? This is embarrassing! You weren’t hard the last time we did this either,”

Brendon felt his face heat up. He was probably blushing. His tongue felt too heavy in his mouth too. “I-,” he started. Sarah raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, as if she were waiting for an explanation. Brendon didn’t actually have one. ‘Nothing against your lips or anything, but it’s hard to get into this with boobs pressed into my chest.’ He couldn’t say that. He also couldn’t say, ‘Guess what! I’m gay!’ Nope. Definitely not. He couldn’t risk her hating him.

But she was still waiting for an explanation that he didn’t have. “I’m sorry,” is what he said in the end.

“I don’t get it,”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.

“Whatever,” she said. “Whatever, Brendon. I’m going home. When you’re ready to tell me what’s actually going on, give me a call,” She smelled furious as she turned and stormed down the sidewalk.

Brendon felt even worse than he had the rest of the day. He’d totally ruined this, totally ruined everything. Sarah hated him now, all because he couldn’t get into making out with her like any normal guy would and he couldn’t get his head to shut up and he was just a stupid faggot who couldn’t do anything right and-

He was just going to walk home and go to bed. Today was officially over, and if he didn’t crawl back into bed and hide from the world for the rest of it, he was probably going to die. Or do something stupid. Because he was an idiot.

Brendon pinched his wrist hard between his fingernails the entire walk home. It helped, at least a bit. Not enough.

 

 

…  
“That’s strange… let me talk to Clyde about it. I’ll ask around. I’ve heard of this happening… but he’s so young. It shouldn’t..”

“Yeah, I know. And trust me, he’s just as confused as we are,”

“Is he dangerous?”

“Aren’t we all?”

“Zack, you know what I mean,”

“Yeah. Yeah he’s… it’s like he doesn’t know how to handle himself. We talked about it, and he said that he doesn’t even know what he’s doing but suddenly he’s attacking someone,”

“Attacking someone?”

“He hasn’t hurt anyone. And it’s only the boys in the pack. It’s like a sudden burst of violence, and then he’ll come back to himself and go human again and look really confused, like he doesn’t know what just happened,”

“This really doesn’t sound good…”

“Why do you think I called you?”

“Alright. Jon bought his plane ticket already, right? You know how he is, and flights to Chicago are so expensive last minute,”

“Yeah, he got it a week ago or so. He’s insisting on driving himself to the airport and everything,”

“My puppy is all grown up,”

“Yeah. You might not even recognize him. He has a beard now,”

“Oh Lord. What is it with these pups and facial hair?”

“Who the hell knows, Maggie,”

“He’s been behaving?”

“As much as the rest of them. More so, actually. Jon isn’t a problem. He’s always been easy,”

“Yeah, compared to his brothers… you’re having trouble with the other ones?”

“Kind of… I just. There’s stuff going on with them, I know there is. But I can’t get them to talk to me about it,”

“They trust you, otherwise they wouldn’t be there…”

“I’m pretty sure they do. The pack is tight. Except for the one…”

“Just remember, Hall. You don’t get kids to obey you through fear. You get them to respect you through love,”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?”

“You’d better believe it, pup. Now, tell me about this girl of yours,”

“Oh my God,”

 

  
  
**Chapter 6**

 

 

Lastly, while this story is based in Colorado, that was an executive decision made during the RP with these characters quite a while ago. I actually live in Indiana (with Spencer's parents! huehue) and don't know a whole lot about Colorado. I visited there twice, once when I was two and once when I was six, so most of my narrative regarding weather and snow and wind coming down the mountains and shit is all made up. If ya'll know something I don't about that ominous state, drop me a line and help a sister out (also if you catch any embarrassing typos or errors or something, yell at me. I'll find them eventually when rereading, but I'd rather know before a ton of people see it and judge my lack of editing. kthanx).

  
  


After bidding Jon goodbye as he headed off to the airport, Spencer joined Brendon on the couch. There was a rerun of South Park on TV, the episode where Paris Hilton shoves a pineapple up her vagina to prove she’s the biggest whore ever or something. Spencer laughed at a crude joke from the TV, but Brendon just sighed and tossed his phone onto the other couch.

Spencer had to remember to go get a new phone. His was absolutely destroyed, and it kind of sucked. Phones were expensive. Ugh.

Brendon sighed again and kicked restlessly at the coffee table. Spencer frowned at him.

“What’s up with you?” he asked.

“Sarah won’t text me back,” Brendon grumbled, kicking the table again. And again. Spencer put his hand on Brendon’s knee to settle him. “She’s mad at me,”

“What’d you do?” Spencer asked. Brendon glared at the floor hard and balled his hands into fists. He shoved Spencer away from him as he got to his feet and stormed out of the room. Spencer stared after him, bewildered, as Brendon’s bedroom door slammed shut.

“What the hell?” Spencer yelled after him, but he didn’t get a response. He wasn’t expecting too.

“What’s going on?” Zack asked, coming out of his room where he’d been doing some kind of work on his computer. Spencer looked up at him just as the leather-bear-gay character in South Park shoved Paris Hilton up his butt to prove that no, he was the bigger whore.

“Brendon’s having girl problems,” Spencer answered. Zack glanced between him, the TV, Brendon’s doorway, and back at Spencer.

“Uh huh,” he said, nodding. He turned and went back to his room. Spencer shrugged and settled into the next episode of South Park.

 

 

…

“Jenny is coming over for Thanksgiving tomorrow,” Zack said at the dinner table that night. He and Spencer had gone on a walk to get KFC from the restaurant about a mile down the road. Brendon would have gone by himself, but his skateboard was still ruined and walking was too slow and he didn’t want to be by himself that long, so he’d bugged Spencer into coming with him. Talking to Spencer got him out of his head, even though Spencer seemed stuck in his head too. Spencer had asked about Brendon’s skateboard, and Brendon had just shrugged and started talking about the new Jurassic Park movie that was coming out.

“Okay,” Spencer grinned over the drumstick he was holding up. Brendon poked at his mashed potatoes and nodded.

“Cool,” he said. He wondered what his family was doing for Thanksgiving. Would everyone go over to his parents house or to Uncle Al’s? Would all the cousins come over too, even the ones old enough to have their own families? Was Matthew still on Mission? Was his mom going to make that disgusting cranberry stuff? And what was she going to do without Brendon there to poke at it and make alien slime jokes?

Brendon tuned back into the conversation to find Spencer trying to talk his way into going to a party some time after Thanksgiving. A party. With friends. Brendon was kind of jealous. He wondered if he could get Spencer to take him along to the party, but… no. This was Spencer’s thing with Spencer’s cool college friends. Brendon didn’t want to ruin that.

He excused himself before getting up and putting his plate in the sink. He went to hide out in his bedroom for a while, where he could listen to music and stare at the wall and try to get Sarah to stop being angry with him.

After half an hour or so, Spencer poked his head into the room. He might have knocked, but Brendon hadn’t heard it over the sound coming from his headphones. Spencer leaned against the doorframe and grinned at Brendon, who plucked the wires out of his ears and sighed.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna come play Minecraft?”

“No,”

There was a pause. Brendon stared at the wall and ignored Spencer staring at him. Eventually Spencer shrugged and closed Brendon’s door behind him as he went back to the living room. Brendon scowled and kicked out at the wall. He probably should have said yes. He was kind of ruining everything.

 

 

…

“Spencer,” He woke up from a dream about an earthquake to find Brendon shaking his shoulder. “Spencer, wake up, come on, please,”

He groaned and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and squinting at the clock on the desk across the room. 12:25 a.m.

“Brendon, what the hell?” he grumbled, kind of pissed. He’d been sleeping.

Brendon was standing at the edge of his bed, eyes wide and shiny, clutching his forearm in the grip of his other hand and trembling seemingly all over. That didn’t make sense. Spencer sniffed the air and it was rank with blood. That didn’t make sense either.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, rubbing his hand over his face and holding back a yawn.

“I fucked up Spence it won’t stop bleeding and I didn’t mean to that bad but now it won’t stop and it won’t heal itself and Spencer I don’t know what to do!” Brendon exclaimed all in one breath. Spencer blinked and woke up pretty quickly.

“Wait, what?” he asked. “Slower, Brendon. Talk slower. Geeze,”

“It won’t stop!” Brendon yelled. There were tears streaking down his face now, and Brendon held his arm out. Spencer saw something bright red between Brendon’s fingers. What the hell was going on?

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Spencer got up out of bed and dragged Brendon to the bathroom with him. They’d relocated the first aid kit from under the kitchen sink (which didn’t make any sense in the first place), to under the bathroom sink. He pushed Brendon to sit down on the edge of the bathtub and pulled the bag out.

“You’re going to have to let go of your arm, dude,” Spencer said, knee walking over to the younger boy with a mass of balled up toilet paper in one hand to catch the blood. Brendon ducked his head and inched his arm out slowly towards Spencer. He let go of it, and Spencer quickly pressed the paper in his hand to the wound to catch the blood.

“Jesus…” he swore under his breath. “How the hell did this happen, B?” Brendon kept his eyes down and kept shaking his head, back and forth, slowly. “Come on, B. You can’t just wake me up for this kind of thing and then not talk to me,” He kept his voice gentle and even, because obviously Brendon was already pretty upset, and he didn’t want to freak him out any worse. He wasn’t even mad, actually. Just really confused. And kind of scared. There was a lot of blood.

Once the blood stopped flowing so heavily, Spencer bit his lip and pulled the paper away. He threw the soiled tissues in the trash can and looked at Brendon’s arm. There were four straight cuts down the fleshy part, about three inches down from his elbow. The last one had been cut deeper than the other three, and they were too uniform to be accidental. There was a litany of similar scars in the area as well. Spencer looked up at Brendon in shock, but Brendon still wasn’t looking at him.

Spencer sighed and shook his head while he got up to get a wet cloth. He needed to clean all the dried blood up before he bandaged it. Brendon was right. The area wasn’t healing itself as fast as would be expected.

He got down on his knees and curled one hand around Brendon’s wrist to hold him still while he ran the wet towel over the hurt part. Brendon hissed in a breath (“Coldcoldcoldcold!”), and Spencer rolled his eyes. His arm was still bleeding; they were going to have to throw the washcloth away.

“We have to tell Zack about this…” Spencer murmured.

Brendon jerked away from him, but Spencer kept his grip on Brendon’s arm and pulled him back. “What!? Spencer! No! No, please, you can’t!”

“What?” Spencer snapped back. “Can’t tell Zack that you’re slashing your wrists open like some kind of basket case!?” He chose that moment to press the rag soaked in alcohol onto Brendon’s cuts. Brendon yelped and cursed and tried to tug away, but Spencer just held onto him tight and waited for Brendon to chill before taking the rag away.

“You don’t understand…” Brendon grumbled after catching his breath.

“You’re right, I don’t,” He took a piece of gauze (they didn’t have any bandaids big enough to cover this) and taped it on tight. “Explain it to me,”

Brendon pulled his arm back to himself and clutched it to his chest. Spencer sat back on his heels and waited. He was not waking up at midnight for this nonsense without an explanation.

“I ruin everything-,” Brendon started, and he glared when Spencer opened his mouth to object. “You asked, asshole, so let me finish,” Right, right. Spencer snapped his mouth closed.

“I ruin everything,” he started again. “And I can’t help it. People are always getting mad at me, and I’m always mad at me. I don’t like it, okay? I’m all messed up. And Sarah is, like, my only friend, but now she hates me because she wanted to make out and I couldn’t get a boner and now she won’t talk to me and I totally ruined it,”

“You…” Spencer blinked. “What?”

“That’s not it though, okay? It’s not just that. I’m just messed up. My head is messed up. Do you know what it’s like to feel like you’re losing control of yourself?”

Oh… “Yeah… I do…”

Brendon nodded and ducked his head again. “Please don’t tell Zack,” he said quietly. “Please. I… It’s not this bad, really. I’m okay. I just… this helps,”

“It’s not good,” Spencer said, but he already knew that he probably wasn’t going to tell. If Brendon was feeling desperate and this was the only way to help, then damn. Spencer couldn’t take that away from him. “You shouldn’t be hurting yourself,”

“I know,”

“I won’t tell,”

Brendon glanced up through his eyelashes and his mouth quirked in a half grin. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks,”

“C’mon, back to bed,” Spencer said as he heaved himself off the bathroom floor and tossed the first aid bag back under the bathroom sink. He didn’t protest when Brendon trailed him back to his room and curled up in Spencer’s bed with him. He didn’t mind. Maybe Jon was right about the pack cuddling thing. It was nice. It didn’t take long for Brendon to fall asleep curled up close next to Spencer, but Spencer was still awake an hour later when Zack came home from work. He couldn’t get his brain to shut off, so he closed his eyes and feigned sleep when Zack peeked into the room to check on them before going to bed.

 

 

…

“The boys are sweet,” Jenny said. They were standing downstairs in the small lobby area of the apartment building. There was a washing machine humming along down the hall in the laundry room. Zack wondered what kind of person did laundry on a holiday anyways.

“Thanks,” he said. “They seemed to like you,” Brendon and Spencer were upstairs doing the dishes. Brendon had volunteered to do them initially, and then Spencer had decided to help because ‘You never do it right, Brendon, you’re going to give us diseases.’ Zack had only been slightly embarrassed.

“That’s good,” she laughed nervously and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. Zack smiled at her. Their holiday dinner had been an informal affair. They’d all just worn jeans and sweatshirts, but Jenny still managed to look stunning in a faded blue hoodie with the word ‘DENVER’ across the front in block letters. God, Zack was so taken.

“I’ll see you later, alright?” she asked, moving in and standing up on tiptoes to kiss him. Zack kissed back briefly, feeling like a dumb teenager again. Man, he’d missed that fluttery feeling in his chest. It was nice. This woman was amazing.

“See you later,” he agreed. She winked before tugging her coat on and sauntering out the door. Zack stood there dumbly for a moment after watching her go, then he shook himself and headed back upstairs to the apartment.

…  
“I think we should talk about it,” Spencer said. He rinsed off a plate and handed it to Brendon to dry without looking up. Brendon didn’t take it though, and after a moment Spencer was forced to raise his eyes and find the younger wolf scowling at him with his arms crossed.

“I think we shouldn’t,” Brendon said. “If I knew you were going to bother me about this so much I wouldn’t have told you,” He snatched the plate away and set it on the counter with the others, not very gently either, and Spencer was surprised it didn’t crack.

“Hey. Chill, dude,”

“You’re telling me to chill?” Brendon guffawed. “That’s hilarious,”

“Why are you being such a dick?” Spencer snapped, dropping the sponge into the sink with a ‘plop.’

“Why are you trying to talk about this?” Brendon countered. “I don’t want to talk about this. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You shouldn’t be hurting yourself,”

“You said last night that you understood!”

“Look, I’m going through a lot of confusing shit right now, but you don’t see me cutting myself like some kind of ambient!”

“Whoa ho! Nice SAT word. Learn that at community college?” Brendon sneered. “Look I’m sorry I came to you about this last night, okay? I get it. I’ll leave you out of it. You don’t care, whatever. Finish the dishes by yourself, asshole,”

Brendon threw his towel on the kitchen floor and stormed out of the room, smacking the wall as he went and mumbling under his breath. Spencer gifted himself a moment of hairpulling and muttering before he turned off the sink faucet and followed after him.

“Brendon, wait,” he called. Brendon was still in the hallway to their bedrooms, and he froze right there with his fists clenched tight and his wolf eyes flashing dangerously.

“What!?” he snapped out. Spencer wished that Jon was there, cause Jon always knew what to do when someone was all upset like this. He stared at Brendon for a few seconds, at a loss, before it hit him. He knew what Jon would do to fix this, at least for a little while. He stepped in and hugged Brendon tight before the kid could protest and shove him away.

“I’m just worried about you,” Spencer said. He’d always been bigger than Brendon, but with the added height he’d recently acquired, he could fully envelope Brendon in a hug and hold him there. Brendon wasn’t fighting it too much; he relaxed after a moment and buried his face against Spencer’s chest.

“I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” Spencer soothed.

“I’m such a fuck up,”

“No you’re not,”

“I don’t want you to be worried about me,”

“Yeah, well…”

“Spence, I just don’t know what to do,” his voice was hinging on the edge of desperation, so Spencer hugged him as tight as he could without hurting him. Brendon sniffled. Zack walked quietly into the hallway and gave Spencer a quizzical expression over Brendon’s head. And while Zack definitely deserved an explanation, Brendon would probably never talk to him again if Spencer broke his promise and told Zack about what had happened. What had been happening. God. He gave a small grin and shook his head, and Zack sighed, as if he hadn’t expected anything else, and nodded before walking back into the other room.

“I’m sorry,” Brendon said quietly again, pulling back and rubbing his fists over his eyes. “I’ll try to stop,”

“Please do,”

“I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,”

Brendon sighed and hung his head. He stepped back away from Spencer, and his body language automatically switched to ‘don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me.’ It was a weird vibe, coming from Brendon, but Spencer respected it.

“If you need to talk, you know you can talk to me, okay?” Spencer asked.

Brendon nodded. “Thanks… I’m gonna go to bed…” he shuffled into his room and closed the door gently behind him.

Zack was waiting for Spencer in the living room. The TV was on with some video game Spencer didn’t recognize immediately playing out on the screen. He accepted the controller Zack offered him and sat down.

“What was that about?” Zack asked.

“Oh, yknow,” Enemy characters in the game opened fire, and Spencer made his character dive behind a barrel and switched his rifle out for a sniper. “Teenagers and their mood swings. Whatcha gonna do?”

He laughed when Zack leaned over and flicked him hard in the ear. To avenge himself, he turned his character around and shot Zack in the back, killing him. He cheered in triumph, even as the older wolf grabbed a pillow and proceeded to grind Spencer’s head into the cushions with it.

 

 

…  
Brendon was sitting on his bed strumming along at his guitar and following some chords that he’d printed out from a library computer before break had started. He still wasn’t so great at bar chords, and this song had an irritating Bm that kept rearing its hideous head. Brendon had tried substituting every other chord he could think of, but to no avail. He was trapped with this demon of a Bm chord, and he had no choice but to learn how to play it. Maybe he’d finally get good. It’d be pretty cool to be good at something like this. He could be that guy at parties who whips out his guitar and breaks into renditions of classic rock songs. Yeah. Yeah Brendon could totally be that guy. He just had to practice.

On one particularly good Bm chord, which went ringing through his bedroom with a beautiful clang, his phone started ringing. It was on the floor a few feet away, and Brendon squinted at it suspiciously before going into some kind of ninja maneuver, leaning off the bed almost entirely, trying not to drop the guitar or himself and still grab the phone, which was screaming ABBA’s “How Deep Is Your Love” at him at full volume. It was a good thing everyone else was already awake. They were waiting for Jon to get home, he was pretty sure.

“Hullo?” Brendon asked, holding the phone up to his ear and trying to throw himself back up onto the bed. He succeeded, narrowly escaping falling to his death and smacking his face on the floor. He was a little bit proud of that.

“Hey,” it was Sarah. Brendon kind of paused for a minute, and when he got himself back together, he felt a little like he was in slow motion.

“Oh,” he said, cradling the guitar in his lap and hugging it a bit. For moral support. “Hi,”  
“So I’ve been thinking…”

Brendon didn’t like the sound of that. “Yeah?”

“Come meet me at the skate park, okay?”

Brendon wrinkled his nose up and plucked at the low E chord. It seemed appropriate.

“Uhm… it’s covered in ice?” he said, plucking quickly yet quietly with his thumb and listening to the gentle hum-hum-humming of the string. It sounded nice.

“Yeah, duh. That way no one else will be there,” Sarah said. She had probably rolled her eyes. She was pretty when she rolled her eyes. Maybe Brendon could make himself be straight for Sarah, if that would make her happy. He could probably get better at pretending. She was pretty, after all. And she was so nice. She deserved to be happy.

“Yeah, okay. Uhm… twenty minutes?”

“Twenty minutes,” she confirmed. “See you there,”

“Yeah,”

“Bye,”

Brendon hung up his phone and plucked at his E string for a few more moments. He felt rather unsure of himself about this whole thing. He’d spent the last three days feeling guilty and then miserable and then guilty again when Spencer found out his secret and the so angry he could punch something and then just a bit numb. His grey cloud had kind of settled in to stay, and maybe he was getting used to it. Now Sarah wanted to talk. That would either make the grey cloud better or worse. Brendon wasn’t sure how he felt about that. What did she want to talk about? If she tried to grab his dick again Brendon was probably going to die. If she wanted to actually skate, he’d have to reveal that his skateboard had been broken by bullies, and then she would laugh at him, and then he would probably die.

“Damn,” he muttered to himself, but he got off the bed anyways and rustled around in his drawers for a bit to find clothes. Black jeans, black t-shirt, Spencer’s dark brown hoodie: yes, that seemed appropriate. Today was a dark day.

He went into the main part of the apartment and found Zack at the kitchen table. “May I go out for a little while?” he asked.

Zack nodded. “Be back by dinner. And put a hat and coat on, Bren, it’s freezing out there,”

Brendon nodded and went to do that. His coat was blue, which kind of went against his color scheme, but his hat and gloves were both black, so that worked. He could always just take the coat off when he got there, if he had to express his inner darkness or something. Yeah.  
Sarah was sitting up on the big ramp when he got there, dangling her legs over the edge and kicking her heels against it. The gate creaked on its hinges when he walked it, and Sarah looked up at him and waved.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Brendon took the ramp at a running start, scaling up the slope rather than taking the stairs because he wasn’t a noob. He slipped on a patch of ice the first time and slid back down, but the second time he totally nailed it and was able to hoist himself up on the ledge next to Sarah. She grinned at him when he settled next to her, and it didn’t reach her eyes exactly, but it was still nice to see.

“Hey,” he said again. He was suddenly nervous and had to take his gloves off to rub his hands on his jeans. They were all sweaty. He was kind of sweaty under his coat too, so he shimmied out of that as well and laid it down behind them. Sarah was smirking at him when he finished.

“Comfy now?” she asked, teasing. Brendon nodded. “So I have a question,” she said.

Brendon nodded again, “Okay,”

“You have to promise not to get offended, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, kind of scared of where this was going.

“Are you gay?” she asked, and while Brendon was sure he should have expected such an accusation, he still wasn’t prepared for that. He hadn’t had anyone actually ask him that before. He wasn’t sure how he wanted to respond.

He let himself have a moment to think about it. Telling her the truth sure would save him a lot of hassle, but it might also hurt her feelings, and Brendon wasn’t sure he wanted to risk that. Also, she would probably think he was totally disgusting or pathetic and never want to talk to him again, and since Brendon only had two friends, and Shane was more of Sarah’s friend than Brendon’s, that decision could cause Brendon to loose both his friends, which also happened to be his girlfriend (maybe) and his crush. Damn. But at the same time, if he said no, she’d probably be really offended that he didn’t want to make out with her. But she knew that he used to be Mormon, so maybe he could lie and tell her it was a weird Mormon thing. His dick didn’t work because of his religion. Hell, maybe he could tell her that he was a girl, which would explain the lack of boner and also make it seem normal that he wanted to be with guys! But… wait no… he was dating Sarah though, so that would actually make him a lesbian, which would make him gay, which would make Sarah hate him. God damn it.

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” she was saying suddenly, scooting over to him and putting her arm around his shoulders. “Come on, don’t do that,”

He realized just then that his eyes were welling up with tears and he blinked them away quickly. He was slightly scared to cry outside during the winter, because what if the tears froze to his eyeballs and got stuck. That would be the worst thing ever, Brendon was pretty sure. That would-

“Where is your head today, man?” she asked, running her fingers through his hair. It felt really good, so he leaned into it. “Look, you don’t have to answer that, it was dumb-,”

“Yes,” he said quickly before he could stop himself.

Sarah paused for a moment, and then slowly retracted her hand from his hair. “Yes what…?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m gay,” he said out loud. The words felt weird on his tongue. “Can I… can I tell you something?”

Sarah leaned back on her hands and nodded. Brendon nodded too. He puffed his cheeks up full of air and blew it out. He was suddenly cold again, so he pulled his hands back into his hoodie sleeves and clutched the fabric in his fists. He chewed on his lip.

“Okay so… You know how I live with Zack, right?” he asked.

“Uh huh,”

“He’s not my dad,” he said.

“Yeah, I kind of figured,”

“I accidentally came out to my parents, like… a year and a half ago I think..” he said. “And it was this huge thing that blew up, and they totally weren’t okay with it. And things were really, really bad for a while, and then I got in this huge fight with my dad, and at the end of it he decided that he’d had enough and he kicked me out. Zack took me in, but I never really explained about the gay thing. I don’t know if he knows… Spencer knows, but. Oh yeah, he’s not my real brother either. He’s just my friend, who also lives with Zack, cause Zack is really cool like that and helps people out when they need it, but I actually have three other brothers and two sisters, well I did, but I guess I don’t anymore-,”

“Brendon, breathe,” Sarah’s hand was warm where it settled on his knee. He realized he’d been rambling and felt embarrassed. He was probably blushing, but he could just lie and say it was from the cold.

“So yeah… I’m… I’m gay, and I totally get if you hate me now, it’s okay,”

Sarah studied him for a moment before laying her head down on his shoulder and taking his hand in hers. She threaded their fingers together.

“Just because your family sucked,” she said, “doesn’t mean that everyone is going to,”

That comment made Brendon feel really small for some reason. He squeezed her hand. “But they might,”

“If they do, they aren’t worth your time, Bren,”

“I’m not supposed to be like this, though,” he said sadly. “I’m not supposed to be into guys. It’s weird. It’s wrong. Why can’t I just be normal?”

“Normal is overrated,” Sarah told him, squeezing his hand back. “And what’s wrong? There’s nothing wrong about being gay, Brendon. It’s not a choice, but even if it were it wouldn’t matter. The only choice you’re making is whether you’re going to be happy with who you are, or if you’re going to let other people make you miserable and hide in the closet forever. There’s nothing wrong with you. You probably couldn’t be straight, even if you tried,”

Brendon pouted a little bit, “I did try,”

“And where did that get us?” She asked. “Freezing our asses off and sorting through your mental break down in an abandoned skate park on the day after Thanksgiving,”

Brendon frowned and picked his coat up so he could drape it around Sarah’s shoulders. She was a human, so she ran on a lower heat register than he did. He wondered momentarily if he would ever come out to her as a werewolf too. Well, not at that moment. Not yet. He had enough to think about for the time being.

“I’m honestly a bit relieved,” she said. “I was worried I was really bad at kissing or something,”

“You’re good at kissing,” he said. He squeezed her hand again. “It’s just… yknow. Boobs. And you smell like fruit. And stuff,”

“You’re a fruit,” she countered, and then added, “I’m teasing, by the way. If you’re not okay with me teasing you about it, I won’t,”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. Just not… like… around anyone else? I’m still kind of, uhm… in the closet, I guess,”

“Honey, you are so in the closet, you’re like a winter jacket in a Florida suburb,”

Brendon laughed. “Dude, what the hell?”

“Metaphors are beautiful,” she said solemnly. He rolled his eyes.

“That was a simile,” at least, he was pretty sure. Sarah shrugged.

“Whatever. Let’s go get slushies at the seven eleven,” she pulled away from Brendon and slid down the ramp like it was a slide in a children’s park. Brendon grabbed his gloves and slid down after her.

“Sarah, it’s like fifteen degrees out!” He said, laughing.

“Slushies!” she demanded, so Brendon just rolled his eyes and skipped after her out of the skate park. His grey cloud was still there, but it was a little less threatening. He felt better, at least a little bit.

“You really don’t think I’m disgusting?” he asked as they walked down the sidewalk. He worked on getting his hands stuffed into gloves and making sure his fingers all went in the right sleeves. Were they called sleeves? Finger sleeves?

“I think,” she said. “That you are the sweetest boy I’ve ever met,” she leaned in and smacked a kiss onto his cheek. “And you were my friend before you were my boyfriend, anyways. Let’s keep it like that, okay?”

Brendon grinned and nodded. “Okay,”

“BFFs?” she asked. She was probably being ironic about it, but the meaning was still there. It made Brendon laugh.

“I’ll make you a friendship bracelet,” he responded.

“Oh, I am holding you too that, buddy,” she said, squeezing his side where he was ticklish and causing him to let out an embarrassing shrieking noise while she darted off down the sidewalk.

“Hey!” he yelled after her. “Wait up!”

 

 

…  
It had been freezing in Chicago, the way it was always freezing in Chicago in November, and Jon had been totally prepared to return to Colorado for even more freezing temperatures. Less wind, sure, but still damn cold. When he walked out the door of the airport, duffle bag thrown bodily over his shoulder, he was surprised to find that it was actually really nice out. Sure, it wasn’t warm out, parse, but it was at least fifty degrees. It was also raining heavily, but Jon took small miracles where he could get them.

The drive from Aspens to BFE (he’d learned the phrase ‘butt fuck Egypt’ for describing small towns when he was seventeen from one of his friends in art class. he’d made the mistake of saying it later that day within ear of the vice principal and had gotten himself sentenced to lunch detention for a week. his parents hadn’t been very happy about that, but his father had snickered a bit at the phrase, so he hadn’t gotten in too much trouble) only took about an hour, and Jon went the whole drive with his windows down and his music blasting. He was in a punk rock mood, and there was only one appropriate volume for listening to this kind of music: loud.

The heat wave lasted all the way to the apartment, and he was glad for that, but the rain only got heavier as he made his way down to the valley. When it started raining sideways, he was forced to roll his windows up and hide from the moisture like a normal person, even though his left arm was entirely soaked from the drive there.

He pulled up to the building and parked his car in the side lot. He would have gone straight inside, but a figure in the back caught his eye instead. He ended up leaving his bag in the backseat and going around to the patio. There was Spencer, leaning against the wall with rain coming down all around him, absolutely soaked and sulking down at the shimmering cement.

“Hey,” Jon said, sidling up next to him. He pushed his wet bangs out of his eyes and squinted up through the rain. “What are you doing out here?”

“Thinking,” Spencer shrugged. Jon nodded.

“You’re going to give yourself pneumonia,”

“Advanced immune system,” Spencer countered. His voice was flat. Jon wondered what was up.

“Yeah, advanced, but not invincible,” he said. “What’s on your mind, puppy?”

Spencer sighed heavily and rubbed the rain off his face with his palm. “What isn’t on my mind?”

“Hmm,” Jon thought for a moment and scuffed his sneaker against the cement. The fabric of his shoes was absolutely drenched. He felt all sloshy. “The bourgeois, probably,”

A tiny smile cracked across Spencer’s face, and Jon high fived himself in his head. “Wrong,” Spencer said. “I think about that constantly. It is my greatest foe,”

“Viva le revolution,” Jon said deadpan. “Down with the capitalistic pigs,”

“Amen,”

“Seriously though, Spin. What are you thinking about? What’s got you so bothered that you’re standing out here in the rain risking your health?”

Spencer rolled his eyes, as if Jon was being the dramatic one. And sure, he was being dramatic, but it was all in play. Also, Jon wasn’t the one sulking in the rain. So ha.

“I called my mom before, and she said not to come home for Thanksgiving because everything was too busy. She made it seem like they wouldn’t even be celebrating. But I called home again today, and Jackie answered. She said that Aunt Jill flew up from Arizona. Arizona, Jon. They let her come all that way, and they had a huge meal with the whole family, but my own mother didn’t want me there,”

Jon frowned and pulled his mouth to one side, thinking. That was pretty cold, actually. If Jon’s own family did that to him, he’d be really upset. He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he just put his arm around Spencer’s shoulders (Spencer had gotten taller, but not too tall for this to work), and focused on sending good vibes his way. He’d never been taught how to do it; he’d just picked it up naturally when he was little. Sometimes it was the only thing he could think of to help.

“That’s not going to fix anything, Jon,” Spencer sighed, but he didn’t pull away, so Jon stayed vigilant.

“Yeah, but it might make it feel better,”

They stood there for a while, sopping wet and blinking rain drops off of their eyelashes. Eventually (Jon had lost any concept of time, for a while. how long had they been out there? minutes? hours?) Jon shivered, and Spencer snapped out of whatever trance he’d been in to look at him.

“C’mon, let’s get inside,” he said. They walked together to Jon’s car, and Spencer insisted on carrying his bag inside for him. Jon wasn’t going to fight it. He was exhausted from trying to transfer energy and jetlagged from the flight home, not to forget lazy from the amount of food he’d eaten two days prior. He was going to feel fat forever, but he liked it.

“Thanks,” Spencer said when they stopped to unlock the apartment door. Jon grinned and bumped his shoulder against Spencer’s.

“No problem, puppy,”

 

 

…  
He wasn’t sure what time it was, but whatever the hour may be, it was too damn early for Zack to be ripping the blinds open and letting all that damned sunlight into the room. Spencer made some kind of groaning noise and flailed his arms about trying to grab the blanket and pull it up over his head. Jon, likewise, had taken his pillow and was clutching it tight over his face.

“Oh calm the hell down, you guys aren’t vampires,” Zack said.

Spencer gave up flailing and instead sat up and squinted/glared at the man in front of him. “What are you doing?”

“Maggie and I came up with a plan to fix your weird wolf pubescent mood swings. Chop chop, get up, get dressed, let’s go,” Zack said, clapping his hands. It was too early for loud noises. Spencer groaned and flopped back onto the pillows.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

Jon let out a verbal yawn and sat up, scrubbing his hand through his hair and not bothering to open his eyes yet.

“Out,”

“Zaaaack,”

“You have five minutes, Spencer Smith, before I come back in here and drag you out by your ear,” Zack said before leaving the room. Spencer groaned and covered his face with his pillow. “I mean it!” he heard Zack shout from the hallway, and he huffed before rolling out of bed and shuffling his way to the bathroom.

 

…  
“Where are we going?” Spencer couldn’t quite hide the whiny tone to his voice as he trailed Zack down the sidewalk. He wasn’t as tired as he had been, but he was still pretty grumpy about being woken up early, hours before he had to go to class, for whatever was going on. He wasn’t paying much attention, and he ran straight into the older man’s back when Zack stopped at a door. The door was pulled open, and Zack herded Spencer inside with a hand on his back. Spencer huffed but went.

“Hey Tommy,” Zack raised his hand in greeting to a man lounging behind a desk in the corner of the large room. Spencer blinked and looked around. The space was crowded with workout equipment. Oh. Great.

“Why are we at a gym?” Spencer asked.

“To work out, duh,” Zack told him, digging around in the backpack he’d had slung over his shoulder. “Maggie and I came up with a plan for you,”

“Working out? In the morning?” Spencer protested, whining again, but he really didn’t care enough to stop at this point.

“Go get changed,” Zack said, tossing him a bundle of clothes that Spencer caught easily.

“Zaaaaaack,” he whined again, because working out? Seriously? He did not want to do this.  
“Go,” Zack spun him around and swatted him on the ass. Spencer jumped away quickly, sending an offended look over his shoulder at the older wolf, but Zack just rolled his eyes and waved him in the direction of the locker room. Spencer huffed again, just for good measure, and went.

“So Maggie thinks part of the problem is that you have too much energy. You’re not getting it all out, and so it’s kind of overflowing. Which would be why you keep snapping,” Zack said, after Spencer had changed and rejoined him on the floor.

“Uh huh,” Spencer said. He tried to sound bored, but that actually made a bit of sense.

“The growth spurts… that’s a whole other thing. But we want to focus on your excess energy for now,”

“Uh huh,” Spencer repeated.

“If what we’re thinking is correct, then we’ll prove it pretty quickly through this,”

Spencer heaved a weary sigh and crossed his arms, “Can we get started already, then?” he asked. Zack kind of chuckled at him.

“Alright then. Stretch first, I’m going to go find Tommy,” he instructed.

“What? Why?”

“Stretch,”

Spencer narrowed his eyes but obeyed, going through the gym class routine of touching his toes and stretching out his shoulders. He was stiff. He’d never really been into the ‘working out’ thing.

Zack and Tommy came back after a few minutes, and this time Tommy wasn’t in ratty jeans and a sleeveless hoodie. He was in sports shorts, a form fitting t-shirt, and had thinly padded gloves covering the backs of his hands and his fingers. Spencer eyed them carefully and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Do you know anything about grappling, Spence?” Zack asked. Grappling? That was like wrestling, right? He’d wrestled with Ryan, and with Jon and Brendon, but it was always for fun and never a serious thing. He wouldn’t call himself an expert, but the weight difference had always been significant enough to help him win, most of the time at least. Jon had a few tricks up his sleeve, but Spencer guessed that came with having two older brothers at home.

“Uhm… Sort of?”

“Well, you’d best catch on quick,” Zack said with a nod, and before Spencer knew what was happening, his legs were knocked out from under him and he was pinned to the mat spread out on the gym floor. His arm was wrenched behind him and he couldn’t move. He spat out a curse.

“Lesson one, never turn your back to your opponent,” the man holding him down, Tommy, said to him. He let go of Spencer and jumped back up to his feet. Spencer scowled before standing as well.

“What the hell?” he asked.

“Tommy is level one, for you,” Zack told him. “When you learn to beat him easy enough, then we’ll move on, but for now I want you to focus on fighting him without wolfing out. Fight back and win, but control yourself. He’s trained in martial arts, but he’s still just a human,”

That last bit made Spencer nervous. If Tommy was a human, than he wasn’t going to be as strong as Spencer was naturally. And if Tommy got hurt, it would take a while for him to heal. What if Spencer accidentally snapped his arm or something. What if-

Spencer still wasn’t expecting his legs to get knocked out from under him this time, but he was slightly more prepared to fight back. He tumbled with the older man for a bit, squirming out of his hold and trying to replicate that weird arm hold thing Tommy had done to him before. His hands slipped off, though, and he ended up pinned to the mat in a headlock.

“Better,” Tommy said to him, and this time he offered his hand down to Spencer after he hopped up. Spencer didn’t scowl this time. He grinned and took the hand.

They tumbled around like that for a while until Spencer was panting and exhausted, and they were both covered in a sheen of sweat. Through the windows of the gym, Spencer could see that a blizzard had kicked in, but it was an oven inside the building.

“Take a break,” Zack said, helping Spencer to his feet and pushing him in the direction of the water fountain.

Spencer drank greedily and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Why can’t I win against him?” he asked, kind of perturbed. He’d just gotten his ass kicked by a human. Again. And again. And again. It was kind of disheartening.

“I know technique; you only know power,” Tommy said, perching himself on his desk and chugging from a purple Gatorade bottle.

“Well can’t you teach me the technique?” Spencer demanded.

“Nope,” Zack answered for him. “You’ll pick it up on your own. You’re clever, and it’s part of your survival instincts. You’re going to practice this until you figure out how to win,”

“And then what?” Spencer asked. That sounded like a lot of hard work. He wasn’t sure if he was up for that.

“And then you fight me,”

Oh.

“Come on, then. Let’s build some of those muscles up. You never use them; they probably feel all neglected,” Spencer rolled his eyes but let Zack drag him around the gym to all the different machines. By the time they finished, Spencer was exhausted and all of his limbs felt like jell-o, but he also felt a little bit awesome. Even his stomach muscles were mad at him for just being upright, but he’d done more push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, and a plethora of other exercises than he’d even thought he was capable of. Zack had beat him in a push-up competition, though, which had been surprising. Zack was a big guy, and Spencer had always assumed that he was made up of more fat than muscle. He was apparently wrong.

“How often do we have to do this?” Spencer asked, tugging on his jacket and following Zack out onto the snowy sidewalk. He was pretty sure that his sweat froze where it was rolling down his neck. He scratched at it.

“We come back tomorrow. It’ll be best to get you into some kind of routine, at first, until you build yourself up better. After that, it’s up to you. Whenever you feel like you’re going to snap, it might be a good idea to come visit Tommy and get that aggression out of you,”

Spencer wasn’t happy to hear about the routine, but the rest made sense. He nodded.

“Am I going rogue?” he asked. He hadn’t meant to, but it was bothering him. He didn’t want to end up hurting anybody.

Zack chuckled and shook his head. He coughed Spencer on the back of the neck gently and shook him a bit.

“No, not quite, kid,” Zack said. “But you might be turning into an alpha,”

Spencer stopped in his tracks right there, but Zack kept going. Spencer had to jog to catch up to him by the time he snapped himself out of his trance, and his exhausted muscles screamed at him all the way.

 

 

…  
“I have an announcement,” Brendon proclaimed the moment they all sat down for dinner (left over thanksgiving turkey and other similar food stuffs). Zack raised his eyebrow at him, and the other two just looked curious. Brendon suddenly felt shy, but then he remembered what Sarah had told him. Anyone who had a problem with it didn’t matter. Right. He could do this.

“Sarah and I broke up,” he said, “because I’m gay. That’s the announcement,” he stabbed at a piece of turkey and stuffed it in his mouth before he was tempted to start rambling. That’s what happened when he got nervous. His knee was already bouncing under the table.

Spencer actually snorted into his glass of water and then spent a moment cringing and squeezing the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Spencer was a dork, and he’d already known, so Brendon didn’t pay any attention to him.

“Yeah, I kind of figured,” Zack said. “About the gay thing, not about the Sarah thing,”

“Wait,” Brendon’s voice squeaked, but that wasn’t important. “You knew!?”

“I guessed, kind of,”

“You’re a little bit obvious, B,” Jon said, reaching over the table to pat him on the head. Brendon felt absolutely vindicated. He stared open mouthed at his pack. What the hell.

“You knew!?” he repeated.

“It’s not a big deal, Bren,” Zack said. “Gay. Not gay. Whatever, kiddo. You’re our puppy. So long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters,”

Brendon wasn’t actually happy, most of the time, but he didn’t bring that up. It wasn’t their fault he was all messed up. They were amazing to him. And they didn’t care that he was gay, apparently. They already freaking knew. What the hell.

“Welcome to the club, man,” Jon held his hand up, and Brendon high fived it absent mindedly.

“When you bring a boy home, we’ll totally give him the talk,” Spencer said.

“I’ll bring out my shot gun and polish it on the kitchen table,” Jon warned.

“Just don’t let those sweet talking boys get you pregnant,” Zack added.

Brendon felt his face heat up, probably flushing red and he dropped his head onto the table with a solid thunk, right next to his place setting. “I hate you guys,” he said.

“We love you too, pup,” Zack responded, and okay. That got Brendon to smile a little.

 

  
  



	2. Part 2 (chapters 7-12)

**Chapter 7**   
  
  


Brendon wasn’t really ready to go back to school when Thanksgiving break ended, but then again, who ever was? No one, probably. Well, maybe those psycho nerds who balance Chemistry equations for fun during lunch. Those guys might have wanted to go back. Or maybe the muscly kids with bad hair who wore their letterman’s jackets every day and punched their friends for fun. They might have liked school enough to be eager to come back. Whatever. Brendon wasn’t eager to go back, and then, entirely unrelated although no one would believe him if they asked, he was totally late on that first Monday morning back.

He could usually get away with sleeping till 7:30 when school started at 8:00. He would fall out of bed, throw on clothes, eat breakfast, and then roll to school. He had it down to a science. That Monday, however, he totally forgot that his skateboard had suffered a brutal death, and he only remembered it when he was running out the door to school with seven minutes left to get there (he’d spent ten sleep deprived minutes searching for the board before going ‘oh duh,’ and by then it was too late). He ended up arriving at school at 8:15 (if he was already late, why hurry, yknow?) and had to spend too many tense minutes in the main office with the secretary glaring disapprovingly at him over her blue horned reading glasses (seeing the secretary with those glasses made Brendon feel a little bit stupid about his own bright red glasses, and he spent his awkward moments there fidgeting with the things before stuffing them in his pocket).

He also hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. He’d been on a bit of a high from talking to Sarah and coming out to the pack successfully. He had been so happy, in fact, that he hyped himself up and was awake until 3:45 the next morning. By the time he started winding down enough to sleep, the birds started chirping, and their weird neighbor who woke up every day at four am started doing his step aerobics. Between the constant “CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP,” awful disco work out music, and their creepy sweaty neighbor going “one and two and three and push” stomp stomp stomp stomp,” Brendon actually hadn’t gotten any sleep. None. It was hopeless.

It just wasn’t his day, really. But that was okay. He had plenty of other days that could be kick ass and amazing, and Brendon just had to hold out for that.

Then he fell asleep in his afternoon health class, and things went downhill. The teacher had put in some boring, awful video about smoking and lung cancer and stuff. Normally Brendon paid attention to these videos, because watching the wrinkly old people talk through a hole in their throat was both disgusting and mystifying. That wasn’t the case this time around. Between the darkness and the warmth of the classroom and the monotone wheezy voice telling a story he’d heard a dozen times or so, Brendon found himself nodding off mere minutes into the video. After several attempts to keep his head up and his eyes open, he eventually conked out.

He didn’t wake up until their teacher smacked a book down on his desk next to his head, and he was so startled that he actually screamed and fell out of his desk. That was probably the most humiliating thing he’d done in high school thus far, and he wasn’t exactly a cool kid, so that was saying something.

Then, because of course things could only keep getting worse once they started rolling, he got sent to the principal’s office. Someone threw a balled up paper at him when he grabbed his bag and scurried out of the room, and he’d clenched his fists and let his claws dig into his hands so no one else would see them.

He had to wait a minute before going into the office, just to make sure he wouldn’t snap and bite somebody. He felt his grey cloud settling over him again, but he just welcomed it silently and considered naming it.

The secretary frowned at him again, this one even more disappointed than the last. It clearly spelled “Oh, it’s you again,” across her wrinkly old face, and Brendon knew he was probably blushing as he sat outside the principal’s office and tried not to look at her and her disapproving expression. It was actually a relief to have his name called, or… almost.

He got the talk. The ‘you need to try harder this behavior is unacceptable we want you to succeed in this school Brendon can you promise to try harder’ talk, and Brendon really didn’t do well with being lectured or yelled at, so he just kept nodding and apologizing until the man finally shut up. Then Mr. Hayes picked up his phone and called Zack, which Brendon thought was a bit of an overreaction but didn’t tell him that. He just listened with his stomach tying itself up in knots until he was sent to the detention room, where he sat and sweated and didn’t sleep at all.

His brain was pretty much shot by the end of the school day. He walked home on autopilot and was slightly grateful that Sarah had left early for a dentist appointment so she wasn’t there to ask what was wrong with him. Then he felt guilty, because it wasn’t nice to be happy that someone wasn’t there. Then his stomach tied himself up again, and he eventually had to just sigh and walk the rest of the way to the apartment with his arms crossed over his stomach.

“Y’know,” Zack said as soon as Brendon set foot on the worn down carpeting in the main room of the apartment, “I’m thrilled that you’ve gone all month this far without ditching school,” it was only the second day of December… “But maybe try staying conscious for class as well. Just a thought,”

Brendon couldn’t figure out if Zack was joking with him or not, so he just ducked his head and nodded and went to his room. Sleep sounded like the best thing ever, and maybe he’d actually be able to do it this time.

It was a successful mission, actually. He was out like a light as soon as his head touched his pillow.

 

 

…  
When he woke up, he couldn’t remember falling asleep. He didn’t know what time it was or what day of the week it was or why his bed was convulsing like a one of those moon jump things at children’s carnivals. He rubbed at his eyes and was able to solve one of those mysteries. Jon was jumping up and down on his bed, but that actually just caused more questions. Spencer was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. He rolled his eyes.

“Wakey wakey sleepy head,” Jon yelled. He pounced on top of Brendon, and Brendon squawked and flailed.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“This,” Jon smirked at him, and then Brendon was being tickled. He screeched and flailed more, but to no avail. He was trapped. He was being tortured. He was going to die from being tickled. He was probably going to pee his pants, but then Jon stopped, and Brendon tried to stop laughing enough to catch his breath.

“Zack said you had a bad day,” Jon told him.

“You smell like coffee,” Brendon said back. “It’s kind of gross,”

“Dude, you like coffee,” Spencer said from the doorway, eyebrow raised. Brendon shook his head.

“Nuh uh. I just pretend to like coffee. It’s actually really gross,” Brendon wiggled his way out from under Jon and rolled onto the floor, where he proceeded to strip off his shirt and jeans and stuff them under the bed with the rest of his dirty laundry. He was organized.

“That doesn’t even make sense…” Spencer said, and then, “What the hell are you doing?”

Brendon didn’t answer. Instead he closed his eyes and focused for a minute. When he reopened them he had paws where his hands should have been and a slight ache in all of his bones. Good.

Boxer shorts really weren’t meant for wolves, though. He rolled himself onto his back to try and squirm out of the horribly constricting things, but then he realized that scratching his back on the carpet felt really, really good, and he got distracted with doing that instead. He smelled something happy and heard Jon’s laugh, and then Jon was leaning over the bed and helping pull the awful shorts off. Brendon was so happy that he licked Jon’s cheek, then curled up on top of the bed again.

A voice said, “You guys are such losers,” and he recognized it as Spencer’s. He whined quietly, but then there was a hand petting his head, and he fell back asleep.

 

…

Brendon woke up alone in his bed a little while after that, and he sincerely hoped that Jon had left before he’d switched back to human, because while he didn’t mind being naked and he didn’t mind people seeing him sleep, he’d rather not have anyone see him asleep AND naked. There were boundaries.

 

 

…  
Spencer heaved a heavy sigh and dropped his backpack on the floor when he walked up to door 304B and saw a note from his professor taped to the door. It read ‘class cancelled today. Leave assignments under door.’

Dr. K was his only professor that had them do their assignments on actual, physical paper rather than just turn it in online. The class was a business calculus course, and it was honestly not as hard as he’d expected calculus to be. It was just a lot of writing and a lot of notebook paper. The professor also required them to have three text books for the class. THREE. It was inhumane, really, that Spencer had to write out as much math that he did as well as carry around three heavy books four times a week for this class. He fished his papers out of his bag and tapped them carefully under the door.

After heaving his bag back up onto his shoulder (it was more of a mental challenge than a physical one. it might have been all in his head, but he had been feeling significantly stronger since starting to work out with Zack), Spencer decided to head to the library. He should probably start studying for his Psychology final, but then he remembered that he’d lent his notes to some girl named Samantha and he wouldn’t be getting them back until the next day.

“Crap…” he mumbled to himself, and then decided to go to Starbucks instead. There was one on campus, which was convenient, and Spencer was considering applying for a job there. It would be convenient to work on campus, since he already had to drive forty minutes every day to get there. Why not stay a while longer.

When Spencer pushed through the door to the coffee place and shook the snow out of his hair, someone called out, “Yo Smith!” and he glanced up quickly. It was Samantha, thank God. After a minute or two of small talk, Spencer had his notes and a coffee, and he settled down in the corner to get to work.

 

…

“You’re late,” Tommy said, as soon as Spencer walked through the front door of the gym. “Hey, don’t put puddles on my floor, man. I’ll make you mop,”

Spencer rolled his eyes but grinned and slipped his shoes off by the door. “Sorry. Where’s Zack?”

“He’s on his way. He got held up. Something about fairies? I don’t know, man, I don’t get involved in this supernatural bull shit,” Tommy shrugged and started wiping down some of the equipment with Clorox spray.

“Sure, man. I’m going to go get changed,” he motioned to the locker room, and Tommy just waved him off. It took him a few minutes to change out of his jeans and hoodie, and he had to remember to go shopping one of these days, because his jeans were just a bit too tight now to be comfortable. Stupid growth spurts. He was a man, damn it. He didn’t need jeans that showed off his ass, okay?

He tossed his stuff in a locker and stretched his arms behind him while he walked out into the main area of the gym. As soon as he set foot over the threshold, something was lunging at him and yelling. Spencer felt his heart jump up into his throat, and then-

-he was on his back and he couldn’t breathe. Something was pressing too hard on his chest, but then Zack’s face appeared in his vision.

“You good?” he asked. Good? What was good? What?

He nodded.

“Alright,” the pressure was gone, and Spencer gasped in a huge breath. “Sorry, pup. I didn’t mean to knock the wind out of you,” Spencer just nodded again and focused on breathing. In out. In out. Okay yeah, his lungs were working again. God, Zack was strong. Spencer wasn’t looking forward to learning how to fight him.

“What the hell happened?” Zack’s voice switched to angry, and Spencer’s head snapped up to look around. He honestly wasn’t sure, and he hoped Zack knew that. The black outs. He’d told Zack about the black outs.

“Fuck, man, I was just trying to mess with him. I didn’t know he’d do… that,” Tommy was standing there radiating panic and trembling ever so slightly. Spencer reached up to rub at his jaw, because damn, it freaking hurt. “I didn’t mean to punch you, man. It was a reflex. You just…”

“He wolfed out,” Zack said. “Because he doesn’t know how to control himself yet, and you scared the shit out of him. Try to be careful. I’d rather my pup not murder you. He might have, if I didn’t walk in the moment it happened,”

“Dude, cover your junk. There’s windows,” Tommy said, and Spencer took a moment to realize that it was directed to him. He jumped up to his feet and quickly covered his, yeah… oh my God. This was the most humiliating thing that ever happened to him.

“This is a good learning experience, though,” Zack said, turning to him. Spencer kind of just wanted to run out of the room and hide, but he listened instead. He could be mortified later. “You’re going to get startled in the real world, and most of the time it’ll be in a place that you really shouldn't switch over in. We’re going to have to work on this, so you can learn to control yourself even when you’re panicked,”

“This isn’t fair,” Spencer complained. He wanted to act casual, but he kind of couldn’t without pants. “You didn’t have to teach Brendon all this stuff. He’s new too!”

Zack nodded. “That’s different. Brendon’s weaker than you are. First off, you were bit by a born werewolf. He was bit by you. You were bit deep on the shoulder, and the bite you gave him on his arm caused a lot of bleeding, but it wasn’t as close to the heart, or as deep. You’re incredibly strong. You’re not as human as Brendon is, so controlling the other half of you is going to be harder.”

Spencer pondered that for a moment and got stuck with the phrase, ‘you’re not as human as Brendon is…’ He’d been a werewolf for over a year, but that had never crossed his mind. He wasn’t technically human anymore. That was kind of hard to get over.

“You have clothes he can borrow?” Zack asked Tommy, “Since you made him tear out of his,”

“Gotcha, man. So long as you don’t mind borrowing underwear,” Tommy winked at Spencer, and Spencer held back a cringe. He kind of did mind borrowing underwear, actually, but wrestling without it didn’t sound like something he wanted to do. He resigned himself to accepting the clothes that were thrown at him and sniffing them thoroughly in the locker room to make sure they’d been cleaned recently before pulling them on.

 

…

“So this isn’t a thing anymore, huh?” Shane asked, motioning with a pudding covered spoon between Sarah and Brendon. “Why the hell not? You guys were so cuuute,” he was using a sing-song teasing voice that made Brendon roll his eyes dramatically. Across the cafeteria, he noticed the bathroom kid staring at him and purposefully looked away.

“Seriously though, what happened?” Shane held his hand up to his mouth and mock whispered, “Is Brendon bad in the sack? I always thought Mormons were good at that shit. Six wives and all that,”

Brendon scowled at Shane, and Sarah kicked him hard under the table, which made Brendon grin.

“That’s not why,”

“Then why?”

There was an abashing moment when Brendon thought Sarah was just going to blurt Brendon’s flaming secret out in the cafeteria.

Instead Sarah said, “None of your business,” and Brendon realized that maybe he wanted to blurt the secret out. He was feeling kind of jittery. His impulse control was at an all time low, it felt like.

With no inhibitions, he simply said, “Well I’m gay, so that was kind of a problem,” Sarah’s milk literally came spraying out of her nose and all over the lunch table, which was strange. Sarah was already in on the secret. It shouldn’t have been too much of a surprise. But… it might have been surprising for him to just say it like that.

“Dude,” Shane said, glancing around. “That’s not something you just want to go telling people. Especially not here,”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Sarah said, mopping at her nose with a napkin while scowling at him. Brendon glanced between the two.

“What? You want him to get his ass kicked every day? Fine by me,” Shane was getting mad now too. Brendon could smell both of their tempers swirling around them like fog.

“No, I want you to stop being an asshole,” Sarah said back.

“Well at least I didn’t date a faggot!” With those words everything kind of came to a screeching halt. There was a quiet lull at their table, but thankfully none of the other kids in the cafeteria seemed to notice the exchange. The rest of the room went uninterrupted.

Sarah started a sentence with “Don’t you dare…” and Brendon excused himself to go get a can of pop. He wasn’t upset by what Shane had said, not really, because however rude he’d been about it, he was right. Whatever.

He bought one can of coke from the vending machine, then he thought better of it and bought another one. Clutching the cold metal canisters in his hands, he glanced around the cafeteria until his eyes settled on bathroom kid, sitting in his own little corner of a table with a notebook spread in front of him, scribbling furiously.  
“Hey,” he said as he approached. The boy’s head snapped up to look at him, and then his eyes narrowed.

“Hey…”

“I bought you this,” Brendon smiled and set the can of coke down before pulling out a chair and taking a seat across from the kid.

The kid glared at the can suspiciously for a moment before looking back down to his notebook. “I don’t want it,”

“It’s not charity,”

“I don’t want it,” he repeated a little harsher, and Brendon nodded. He folded his hands in his lap, and he puffed up his cheeks before blowing the air back out. He tapped his fingers on his knee and then opened up his own can. He took a sip.

“Thanks,” the boy said suddenly, snatching the can off the table and popping the tab open.

“No problem,”

The boy just sat there for a moment, holding the can in his hand and drawing little swirls in the condensation.

“You’re not wearing eyeliner today,” Brendon noticed and accidentally said out loud. It earned him another scowl.

“What?”

“Eyeliner. You’re not wearing any,” he’d already gone and said it, so he might as well follow through. The kid just rolled his eyes. His bare, not-eyelinered eyes.

“What? Do you watch me or something? That’s weird,”

Brendon just shrugged. He didn’t watch the kid or anything. He wasn’t some stalker. He just noticed him sometimes.

“You wanna come sit at my lunch table with my friends?” He asked. The face the boy made at him in return could only be described as ‘are you an absolute moron?’ Brendon sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth and dropped eye contact. Never mind then.

“I don’t hang out with losers,” Ouch thanks. Brendon sighed.

“Yeah, I can see you’re very busy here with the cool kids,” he responded sarcastically, glancing around the empty lunch table before standing. He picked his can of pop up. “See you later then,”

“Yeah, sure thing, stalker,” the boy said. Brendon scowled. He’d just been trying to make friends with the kid. Geesh.

“Have a good day,” Brendon said over his shoulder, on a whim. He continued walking and heard him answer something like ‘yeah, whatever.’ It didn’t matter anyways. When he sat back down at his lunch table it was awkwardly silent, but Sarah scowled at Shane until he rolled his eyes and gave a half-assed apology. Brendon appreciated it, really, so he grinned at Shane across the cafeteria table. Shane winked at him.

 

 

…  
“What…” Spencer panted out, doubled over and clutching his stomach, “..is the point… of… this bullshit…?” Sweat dripped off his face and onto the floor. If he took another step his lungs would catch fire and take off into the sky like hot air balloons. His heart was pounding, a consistently heavy thud in his chest, and his vision tinged red around the edges with every beat.

“Heart rate closely correlates to shifting,” Zack explained, taking Spencer’s wrist and getting a pulse. Spencer didn’t mind, so long as he didn’t have to move. He would have thrown himself on the ground right there, except he was pretty sure that he would never be getting back up.

“Okay… so… what?” he asked.

“Come on, college kid. You’re smarter than that,” Zack said. “We need to get your heart rate as high as we can without you shifting. The more we do that, the easier it will be to stay human outside of training,”

Spencer nodded and panted some more. That made sense. That made sense, sure, but he couldn’t breathe.

“Come on then, let’s keep going,”

Keep going? The last thing Spencer wanted to do was run more. No. No way.

“Zack, I can’t,” he whined out.

“I’ll do them with you, come on,” Zack nudged his shoulder. “It’s a race,”

Spencer didn’t have any energy left to argue. He just gave up and nodded. When Zack gave the word he took off again, pushing off the wall and sprinting across the large gym to the other side, and then throwing himself back. They’d been going in intervals of five, so Spencer sucked it up and ran as hard as he could, sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor as they ran. Zack beat him, of course, because Zack was stronger and faster and not as tired as Spencer was. When they finished the fifth lap, Spencer actually let himself collapse on the floor. He lay there on his back, clenching his hands in his fists and shaking from the effort of keeping his canines from popping out and his fingernails from shifting into claws. He was only partially successful, but he didn’t wolf out completely. When he finally caught his breath and glanced up at Zack to see if he’d done okay, Zack was grinning down at him. Pride swelled up in Spencer’s chest and he smiled too. He was never moving again, though. Not as long as he lived.

 

 

…

“Where are you going?” Zack called out as Spencer headed for the apartment door and tugged on his jacket.

“Out,” he had every intention of ignoring Zack and just bolting, but he wasn’t fast enough. Of course he wasn’t. A strong hand clamped down on the back of his neck and dragged him back inside. Spencer huffed indignantly and crossed his arms.

“Yeah, no,” Zack said. “Where are you going?”

“Out,” Spencer repeated. “To a party? Yearly invited me,”

“A party?” Zack raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. Spencer just scowled.

“College students go to parties, y’know,” Spencer reminded him. “It’s kind of a thing,”

“Yeah,” Zack sighed and glanced out the window. The sun was beginning to set, but they couldn’t see that from their side of the apartment building. All they could see from their window was the almost-full moon inching its way up the sky. “But not you, not tonight. Take your jacket off, kid. Stay awhile,”

“What?” Spencer demanded. “I can’t go? Why not!?”

“Let’s see,” Zack responded a bit sarcastically, obviously losing patience. That was fine. Spencer was pissed. He wanted to push buttons. “Put a young, unstable werewolf in a loud, over-stimulated environment full of mortal kids who can’t defend themselves. Add alcohol, sex, and poor decisions into that disaster cocktail. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Zack, come on,” Spencer protested. “That’s totally unfair. I’m not going to hurt anybody!”

“Oh really?” Zack asked. “Of course I can trust that, coming from the kid who keeps having black outs and violent outbursts,”

“This is such bullshit!” Spencer roared. He glared up at Zack, who stared down at him evenly.

“Your eyes are flickering,” Zack told him. Spencer clenched his jaw.

“I don’t care!”

“Yes, you do,” he responded. “I know you, Spencer. And I know that you don’t like losing control of yourself. You don’t like that part of you is acting out without your consent. That’s why I’m training you,”

“This isn’t training right now, though. I just want to go to this party! Come on, please?” Spencer had really kind of been looking forward to this thing. He had a lot of steam to blow off. He wasn’t going to lose control of himself. Geeze.

“As much as I want to be able to trust you with this, I can’t,” Zack told him. “You’re a time bomb already, and I know how likely you are to drink-”

“-oh come on-”

“So no. You’re staying in tonight, and that is final,” he said sternly. He crossed his arms over his chest, and Spencer crossed his tighter. Spencer glared, and Zack glared back at him. They stood there for a few seconds, exchanging scowls until Zack growled very quietly, and Spencer didn’t have much choice but to give up.

“Fine,” he snapped, dropping his gaze and storming off to his room. “Fine, whatever,” he had to study anyways. Upon slamming the door, two surprised sets of eyes gazed up at him. Brendon and Jon were both sitting cross legged on Jon’s bed with text books spread out in front of them. Jon was probably helping Brendon with his homework or something.

“Don’t ask,” he grumbled at them, since they obviously wanted to ask. He plopped down at his desk and put his headphones on to block out their quiet murmurings about math or whatever. He’d text Yearly later and apologize for not showing, but it was supposed to be a big party. He probably wouldn’t even notice.

It was only an hour later, when his brain was completely fried from notes and theories and facts that he could only half remember, that he realized he’d had an argument without wolfing out. His eyes hadn’t even changed over. His hands had stayed human.

“Huh…” he said to the now empty room. “Maybe it’s working…”

 

 

…

If anyone asked, Zack was emailing with his boss about some shipment mishap that needed to be corrected. He definitely wasn’t emailing back and forth with Jenny. Nope. Not at all. At least, he didn’t have to tell anyone that. He especially didn’t have to tell the boys that were taking up the living room, because God knows he’d never hear the end of it.

He was also emailing Pete, asking if he could track down that kid. Pete responded that yes, he knew where the kid was, but no, he wouldn’t give up the location. He also wouldn’t give up the name, the situation, or basically anything of use, even though Zack was almost certain Pete knew more than he did. He had to. Unfortunately, growling didn’t work on fairies. It worked even less through a computer, and the one time he’d accidentally let it out, Brendon had looked at him and made a somewhat insulting face.

Zack didn’t answer to teenagers, though, so he just ignored him.

Spencer probably would have made a face too, if he hadn’t been so absorbed in his studying. All of the kids finals were taking place on one day, that Friday, and Spencer had a little less than ten hours to prepare himself. Zack was probably going to have to force him to bed kicking and screaming and sit on him until he fell asleep, because otherwise the kid would be up all night, and exhaustion wouldn’t help anything.

It especially wouldn’t help the wolf flare ups, which were getting better, but was not entirely fixed yet. Not nearly.

An email popped into his inbox, and Zack read it with a smile before tapping out a response and sending it along.

Brendon had been behaving strangely that entire afternoon, so it wasn’t a surprise when he disappeared from the living room. That’s what he did. If Brendon’s mood smelled off, it was almost a sure thing that he’d go into hiding before seven o’ clock hit.

Seven o’ clock. Zack wondered where the hell Jon was hiding. They’d gone ahead and eaten dinner without him, because they ate dinner every night at six, and it was either be there or eat by yourself. It wasn’t a rule or anything. They didn’t have to eat dinner together. It was just kind of a habit, and it was strange for Jon to be missing.

Zack had to leave for work in half an hour. He hoped Jon was back by then, otherwise he’d spend his entire shift slightly anxious about it. For one, Maggie would murder him if he let anything happen to her son. For another thing, Zack was actually really fond of the stupid kid. Sure, they’d had rough spots, but everyone did at some point, and they had everything sorted out.

He was sure that nothing had happened to Jon. He was fine, just haunting around somewhere. It was just that Jon didn’t normally haunt, not by himself. He was a social little wolf, and also a homebody. This was strange.

Brendon emerged a little while later, and a tint of some strange scent followed him in. It may have just been a coincidence, since one window was cracked open (the cold air was nice) and they lived in a building with dozens of other people. It could have been anything. After a moment, Zack identified the scent as blood. He would have brushed it off, figured that it must have been something or someone else, except that Spencer was shooting Brendon the most peculiar facial expression, and Brendon was red faced and staring at the carpet.

It wasn’t that Zack didn’t believe in coincidences, it’s just that most of the time they turned out to mean something, in his experience. He stared at the puppies for a while as Spencer continued to make faces (fluctuating between concerned and sad and extremely pissed off) and Brendon continued to occasionally glance at him and practically tuck his tail between his legs. Right. Something was up. So he asked.

“Is everything okay, guys?” he asked, and for a brief second they both had open book expressions with the word ‘guilt’ written all over them. Zack had spent enough time with puppies to know that face. It was gone in an instant, though, almost. Brendon dropped his gaze back to the carpet and didn’t say anything, and Spencer made another face at him (irritated) before turning to Zack.

“This genius is convinced that he needs to shave,” Spencer said, using the tone of a mistreated older brother, which he probably got lots of practice with from his sisters. “And I told him that no, he doesn’t, and that he’d better not use my razor, but he did anyways,” Spencer kicked out and tapped Brendon in the ankle.

“Brat,” he said.

Whatever guilty expression had been there a moment ago, it was entirely washed away when Brendon wrinkled his nose up at Spencer and stuck out his tongue.

“I do to need to shave. I’m a werewolf, remember? I’m all manly and shit,” Brendon said. Spencer rolled his eyes hard.

It was pretty obvious that they were lying, but Zack figured that if Spencer knew what was going on and was deciding not to tell him, that he’d have to trust that. At least Brendon was talking to someone, right? It made sense that he’d talk to Spencer. If it was something really serious, Spencer would let Zack know, he was sure of it. He just had to trust them, and hope that they trusted him, like Maggie had said.

At least he wouldn’t have to tell Maggie that he’d lost her youngest son in a Colorado snowstorm, because while Spencer and Brendon continued lying their butts off about shaving or whatever, the door cracked open and Jon slipped inside. He was covered in snow and shivering, his cheeks and nose bright red. There was something bundled up inside his coat, too, and it smelled like…

Jon grinned sheepishly as his coat meowed. He pulled a ball of fur out from behind the fabric.

“Oh my God!” Brendon was over their in an instant. “Oh my God that’s a kitten! Awww he’s so little can I hold him oh my gosh look at his tiny face-”

“Yeah, B, you can hold him,” Jon very gently handed the cat over and hovered close to make sure Brendon didn’t drop it or something. Spencer’s attention was captured as well, but he didn’t move from his nest of text books. He stayed seated on the couch but arched his neck up as if trying to get a closer look.

“A cat? Really?”

Zack had to agree. “Really, Walker?”

“Zack someone left him outside!” Jon flew immediately into defending himself. “They left this little guy outside in a snowstorm! How am I supposed to just leave him there? He can’t take care of himself!”

There really was no way to argue against this. He couldn’t throw a baby animal back out to brave the elements. That was totally heartless.

Zack sighed, defeated, and said, “Keep him,”

“His name is Dylan,” Jon told them. “At least, I think he’s a boy,”

“Dylan could be a girl name too,” Spencer said, still not moving, but looking ever the more interested. Brendon was hugging the cat to his chest and rubbing his cheek against the tiny animal’s fur. The cat mewled in protest, but Brendon wasn’t relenting. The whole thing was kind of adorable.

“Welcome to the pack, Dylan,” Brendon murmured to the tiny thing, which meowed in return. One day Jon’s taking-in-strays complex was going to overcrowd them and drive them out of the apartment, but thus far they’d all turned out okay, so maybe Zack could let it go for a little while.

“That thing had better be house trained,” Zack warned. Jon just grinned at him.

  
  
**Chapter 8**

  
  


Jon came home from work reeking of coffee and craving a shower. The shop had been hectic, actually getting a “lunch rush” or whatever for the first time since he’d started there, and he’d been caught off guard. Apparently he was out of practice. He used to love busy crowds and loud people and lots of action. Now he had a headache prodding at him from behind his eyes, though that might have just been from the immensity of the moon. It would be full in two days and Jon’s skin felt too tight the way it always did.

The apartment was crowded when he went inside. Spencer and Brendon were both sprawled out on the floor, revelling in the freedom that was winter break (Spencer) and the anticipation of that same freedom soon to come (Brendon). Jon rubbed his eyes and hung his visor up by the door so he wouldn’t forget when he left for his next shift.

Zack greeted him from the couch, and Jon gave a small wave of recognition as he shuffled across the living room and dumped himself onto the opposite sofa, which was empty. He was more of a zombie than a werewolf at that moment, if he was being honest with himself. Ironically, whatever game the guys were playing on the TV had some major zombie shooting action going on in it. Jon wanted one of them to shoot him too and kill his headache.

“How was work?” Zack’s girlfriend, Jennifer, asked him. Jon was raised to be polite to guests, but at that point he didn’t honestly care. He was exhausted.

“Eh,” he said.

Zack chuckled and wrapped his arm around his girlfriend. Aw. Cute. Jon wished he had a boyfriend to cuddle at that moment. He could totally go for being pampered and snuggled with, not that he’d ever admit that out loud, even to an imaginary boyfriend.

“Jonny’s always gotten moon sickness like this. He’s totally useless the day before and after,” Zack explained. Jon glared and would have protested against that remark (especially the pet name. he hated being called that), except that it was totally true. He opted for growling instead. Spencer reached up from the floor to pat him reassuringly or something. He ended up petting Jon’s face, so Jon nipped at his hand and then promptly got slapped . It was a regular exchange, but Jon growled again just for good measure.

“Hey! The full moon is tomorrow, isn’t it?” Brendon asked unnecessarily. While Jon got lethargic around the moon, and Spencer got bitchy and moody, Brendon got somehow more twitchy and energetic. The three of them at once weren’t exactly compatible, and Jon was already irritated from the few minutes he’d been home.

Brendon kept talking without waiting for an answer. He spun around to face the adults on the couch and left his character idling on the screen while Spencer cursed under his breath and fought off the approaching hordes of zombies.

“What are you gonna do about the full moon, Jennifer? You don’t have a pack, right? Are you gonna come out with us?”

Both Zack and Jennifer looked incredibly uncomfortable at the question, and Jon was able to understand entirely. He prodded Brendon in the shoulder with his finger.

“Dude, no,” he hissed. “You can’t just ask that. It’s kind of a big deal,”

Brendon was frowning at him, obviously confused. Of course Brendon wouldn’t know this, but asking a wolf to come out on the full moon was basically an invitation into your pack, and that proposition was nothing to scoff at. The layers of human relationships on top of that only complicated things further, and if Jennifer had a pack of her own back wherever she came from, that offer could get Zack in serious trouble with her alpha. Unless _she_ was the alpha, which would be pretty uncomfortable too.

Jon sighed. There was just too much opportunity for this to all go wrong. Brendon’s half of the screen began flashing red.

“Actually, Zack. There’s something I needed to tell you about.” The hesitant tone to Jennifer’s voice made it obvious that she didn’t want to tell him at all, really, but if she had to, she’d rather it not be with an audience of puppies. Spencer and Brendon apparently didn’t catch up that same cue, and Jon doubted Zack would kick them all out to have this serious adult conversation. Being the responsible adult that he was, Jon decided to help.

“Alright, we’re out,” he said, shoving himself to his feet and pressing the power button on their game console with his toe. Spencer yelled at him and punched him in the leg, but Jon ignored him. “Spencer, you wanted to go into town, right? Let’s go.”

He didn’t give them much of a choice, really. He kind of just hauled Brendon off the ground and tossed him towards the front door. Spencer kept grumbling, but he followed. Eventually they all had their coats and shoes on, and Jon was grabbing the keys off the hook by the door, saying they’d be back in a few hours.

Thankfully it was only mid afternoon, so the sun was partially out (the clouds were trying pretty hard to hide it) and the moon was no where to be seen. Jon was itchy enough without the moon coming out and smiling at them.

 

 

…  
“Comeoncomeoncomeoncomeoncomeon!” Brendon yelled, bouncing on the balls of his feet and running into the park ahead of them the way he did every single month.

Spencer clenched his fists and muttered, “I swear to God, I’m going to murder him,” under his breath. Jon chuckled at him like he thought he was joking. Spencer wasn’t. He seriously was going to murder him. He squinted up at the setting sun ahead of them, which was turning the cloudy sky pink and red and orange. It was pretty cool looking, but Spencer really wished the clouds would go away before the moonrise. They were all out for the full moon, and if the clouds kept Spencer from entirely exhausting himself tonight, he was going to be pissed.

“Calm down, pup,” Zack called out from over Spencer’s shoulder. His hand came up and cuffed on the back of Spencer’s neck, some kind of reminder to breathe, calm down, don’t let the irritation turn into anger turn into shifting.

“He’s adorable,” Jennifer chuckled. “If you don’t want him in your pack, I’ll take him back home with me,”

Back home, right. Zack had told them about their big talk, after they’d bugged him endlessly. He didn’t really have a choice, in the end, but to reveal that Jennifer did actually have a pack. She lived with them in Pennsylvania, where she would be returning to right after the new year. She said that she hadn’t meant to start a relationship while out in Colorado, but that she wanted to try doing things long distance, now that they’d started. Zack had refused to tell them what he thought about that idea, or how the conversation had ended. Jennifer was there with them, however, so he must have gotten something worked out with her alpha so that she could come out on the full moon with them, no strings attached.

Jon had explained the politics behind all of that as well. This werewolf stuff was more complicated that Spencer realized, even though he was one. He wasn’t as immersed in it as Zack and Jon were. He wasn’t “born this way” to quote Lady Gaga (not out loud, though, because then Brendon would start singing, and Spencer really could not handle that right then).

“Give it a few months,” Zack told her. Spencer laughed quietly under his breath and watched Brendon and Jon wrestling around in the clearing near the edge of the woods. He considered joining in but then changed his mind. He was feeling slightly nauseated.

The thing was, Spencer was actually nervous about this full moon, more than he had been on his first outing with these guys. It wasn’t the ‘taking his clothes off’ thing that had him all bothered; he was well over that by now (mostly).

Zack and Spencer had tested it at the gym a week or so ago. Zack’s instructions had been, “Let’s get you to shift over without you trying to maim somebody, okay?” It had actually worked. Spencer had gone into his wolf form just fine, almost entirely himself in his head (or as much of himself as he could be, in that condition. because while, yes, he was fully conscious and in control of himself when he was a wolf, things were still warped and off kilter just from being in a different body with different senses and a different perspective). He’d stalked around the gym for a while, because changing back was harder than it used to be. His wolf was a lot stronger. Shifting to human went against everything that Spencer’s head was telling him to do. During his prowling, he’d inevitably caught sight of himself in the large mirrors hanging along the wall of the gym. At first he’d growled, but when he realized that no, that was actually him, he kind of just stared for a moment.

He was getting used to what he looked like now in human form. It was all good news, really. What had once been troublesome baby fat was now slimming down. His stomach was relatively flat, he had an actual jaw line, and the muscle definition on his arms and shoulders was a major improvement. He’d also grown a solid five inches, leaping from five foot eight to six foot one.

His wolf form, though. That was totally different. He had looked like a puppy before, small (in werewolf terms, so a bit bigger than a golden retriever) and sturdy, with paws slightly too big for his body. Now he was bigger than even Jon was. He wasn’t the size of Zack, but it was still a decent improvement. He was tall and slender, and he looked downright vicious.

And for some reason he was totally nervous about letting anyone else see that.

At least Jennifer was there. Her presence would hopefully take some of the attention away from Spencer and the results of his mysterious growth spurt. They still hadn’t figured out the cause yet. Or, if Zack had, he hadn’t let Spencer in on the secret.

At the very last minute, the strange homeless kid came sauntering into the park, acting like he was in no rush at all. Every time they saw him he looked different, usually dirtier, but this time he looked entirely ill. He was pale where his face should have been flushed from the cold, and he had deep circles around his eyes. He was absolutely filthy, and he’d somehow gotten thinner than he had been before.

The kid exchanged a head bob of recognition with Zack, and Spencer couldn’t help but notice the way the boy’s hands trembled as he pulled his shirt over his head.

 

 

…  
Another change, which Spencer wasn’t expecting but also wasn’t complaining about, was that he wasn’t entirely wiped out when they shifted back to human form after the sun came up. He could actually keep his eyes open, and while he felt sore and kind of gross, his arms weren’t too heavy to lift and moving to get dressed wasn’t a struggle.

Spencer was still struggling, though, because Brendon and Jon were both gaping at him. He glared at them and growled, trying to say ‘fuck off’ without actually saying it. Brendon’s eyes widened and he looked away quickly, bouncing off to bother the new kid, but Jon just kept staring.

“ _What?_ ” Spencer snapped at him. Jon gave him a lazy grin before pulling his shirt over his head and walking over.

“You’re not much of a puppy anymore, huh?” Jon’s tone was entirely teasing, and Spencer growled again. He couldn’t exactly help it. He was all wolfed out and off kilter.

“Hmmm, you still act like a puppy though,” Jon ruffled Spencer’s hair.

“Stop teasing him, Jon,” Zack said wearily, flicking Jon in the ear. Jon rolled his eyes and then laughed when Brendon ran up and jumped on his back. The two stumbled away, breaking into yet another wrestling match (the moon made those two act so weird). Jennifer came up and ruffled Spencer’s hair.

“You’re a very handsome wolf. Don’t be embarrassed, pup,” she said, and while Spencer understood her intention, it kind of backfired. He ducked his head away and put a lot of concentration into zipping his coat up.

During the time that he wasn’t paying attention, the weird kid disappeared. Spencer didn’t even see him go.

 

 

…

Jon wasn’t one for cleaning, usually. Unless it was something absolutely necessary like the dishes or laundry, he didn’t really see the point. Spencer did, though, apparently. It was only the second day of the puppy’s winter break, and he was already attacking the apartment like an organization tornado. It made Jon’s head spin, or maybe the vacuum was just really loud. Either way, he decided that he could not take it after a while and asked Spencer what he could do to help.

Spencer had smiled and sentenced him to laundry duty, which wasn’t so bad. It meant he got to get out of the apartment and away from that loud as hell vacuum. He had to go around and get the laundry first though(of course they didn’t keep anything in hampers, or even in one particular place, because that would just make sense), which meant crawling under beds for socks and sorting everything into methodical, color coded piles.

While worming his way under Brendon’s bed, just to double check, his hand caught on something sharp and painful, and he immediately lurched back. This only caused him to smack his head on the bed frame, and he released several curse words into the atmosphere before sitting up and rubbing the ache away.

His hand was bleeding, but it was already in the process of healing itself, so he didn’t worry much. He wiped it on his hands and rooted back under the bed again to try and find the source of evil. He was pretty confused when he pulled out a metal triangle thing. More rooting eventually unearthed an entire skateboard, or what had once been one, broken into several jagged pieces and decorated in dust.

“Yo! Spencer!” Jon called out, because this was weird. For one, Jon wasn’t sure Brendon was even strong enough to break his skateboard (wolf powers considered, the kid was still tiny). And also, he loved skateboarding. What the hell had happened?

“Huh?” Spencer poked his head into the room. He had soap bubbles caught in the slight bit of stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave off yet. Jon very carefully didn’t think about smearing them across Spencer’s face while they made out or anything, because he’d tried that and been shot down big time, so he didn’t even think about it any more.

Nope. Not at all.

Jon held up a piece of the skateboard for Spencer to see, because he wasn’t exactly sure what to ask. He just had a feeling that Spencer would know what was going on, if any of them did. Spencer frowned, confused, but there’s something else there too that Jon couldn’t identify.

“Any ideas?” he asked.

“That’s really fucking weird…” Spencer said, crossing his arms over his chest. “We should.. put it back, okay? Don’t let him know we saw it.”

“What?” Jon asked, looking straight up at Spencer from his seated position on the floor. “You aren’t going to ask him about this?”

Spencer appeared to be thinking for a moment, his jaw tense and worried, and Jon was rather curious as to what was so prominent on his mind. What wasn’t Spencer telling him?

“Just put it back,” he eventually said, shaking his head. “He’s hiding it for a reason, so it’s not like he’ll be willing to talk about it if we ask, you know?” Jon just gave him a doubtful look, but Spencer shook his head and said, “If he needs us, he’ll come to us. Trust me.”

Jon trusted Spencer. That wasn’t the problem here. The problem was that Brendon rarely actually told them anything that mattered, even though he constantly cycled into these strange moods where it was obvious there was something to talk about. He always just shook his head, though, and put this expression on his face (Jon called it his ‘determined to be happy’ look) and kept insisting that everything was fine. Sure, maybe it was actually fine, but from the way Zack worried about it and the nervous energy Spencer got regarding Brendon sometimes… Jon couldn’t just not pay attention to what was happening.

Still, he trusted Spencer. Spencer had been friends with Brendon before anyone. He might as well listen to him.

“Alright,” he said, shoving the broken board deep under the bed again. “If you’re sure.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Spencer told him, and then he disappeared, back to the dishes or wherever. It took Jon a moment to remember that he was supposed to be doing laundry.

 

 

…

“That-,” Pete said seriously “-is shit. And this is shit. What is it with you people and beer? Once you try buzzing nectar, man, you’ll never go back,” He squinted into the bottle for a moment, eying the dark liquid cynically before taking another swig. It wasn’t as bad as he made it out to be; he had a lot of experience with the mortal drink. Pete just wanted to jostle Zack a bit, get him out of this mood he was in. Wolves in bad moods were no fun, and Pete didn’t like to bother with them.

Zack didn’t respond, so Pete went back to the topic at hand. Maybe Zack actually did want to talk about it. Pete could work with that. He talked while messing with the settings on the coffee machine. Caffeine sounded better than alcohol. “So are you guys going to stay together?”

“She’s leaving,” Zack’s tone sounded defeated. He shook his head at the offer of coffee, so Pete set the machine to make one lonely cup and pressed start. It gurgled quietly behind him while he turned back to the wolf and leaned on the counter.

“Did she break up with you?” Pete asked.

“She wants to try a long distance thing, I guess. I don’t know.”

“Dude.”

“Shut up, Pete. I know, okay?” Zack snapped. Pete didn’t flinch, he just crossed his arms and waited patiently. “We’ve only been together for a few months, but I really like this girl.”

Pete nodded, uncrossing his arms and dancing fire across his fingertips while he gathered his thoughts. “It’s just… That shit is hard, y’know? Long distance after being in person like this. And you wolves are all touchy.” He groped his fingers at Zack with that last statement. Really, for all that werewolves were supposed to be vicious, cursed creatures of the night, they were the most physically affectionate people Pete had ever met. It must be a pack thing. He wasn’t really sure.

“It’s not like I could follow her to Pennsylvania.” The wolf rolled his eyes hard when he said it. Pete held back a mocking smirk; obviously Zack was picking up a few mannerisms from his young pack.

“Well, _you could_ …” he suggested.

“No,” Zack said instantly. “That is not even an option. I’m not moving the pack like that, and I’m not leaving them behind.” He sounded more defensive than was necessary.

“You said Spencer’s an alpha though, right? I mean, _you could_.” Pete wanted to push this topic and see what he could get out of it. Of course he could just read Zack’s mind or _persuade_ him into giving all the answers Pete wanted. Zack was pretty smart though, and Pete liked him well enough. He didn’t want to be too obvious and piss the guy off.

“Sure, he’s turning into an alpha, but he’s just a kid. He hardly has any control over himself, and he’s fucking eighteen years old. I’m not leaving a puppy in charge of my pack for a girl I’ve only known for two months. Maybe in time, but not now.”

The coffee machine beeped. Instead of wasting time searching for a coffee cup, Pete just held his hand out and summoned one to float to him. When it appeared, he poured his coffee into it and took a tentative sip. “Then I guess you just have to decide whether you’re letting go or not.”

“Pete, she’s leaving. Like, all the way across the country. What choice do I have here?”

Pete glanced over his coffee cup and raised an eyebrow. “You know better than that. There’s more to this world than the physical. You don’t need to touch to keep a romance going. Trust me.” He traded his raised eyebrow for a smirk and a wink.

Zack hesitated for a long moment, scowling into his beer bottle for a while before nodding slowly. “I’ll think about it…”

“Anyways, where do you keep your sugar? This coffee is bitter as hell. Anyways, what’s Walker been doing at Starbucks? That bastard never gives me a discount when I go in there. I’m kind of offended.” Pete stuck his finger into his mug and pulled out energy until the liquid cooled down enough to drink, then he stuck the appendage in his mouth and sucked off the coffee.

The conversation moved on, away from women and all of their woes and onto puppies and eventually town drama. Pete told Zack about Alex’s bar; it had a goblin infestation that was driving him absolutely insane. Pete was, for the time being, pretending to work on it while Alex panicked and Patrick (Pete’s partner for most intents and purposes) frowned at him disapprovingly. Really, he could get rid of the problem with a snap of his fingers if he wanted to- send the goblins all off to wherever to be somebody else’s problem, but where was the fun in that? It wasn’t like they were hurting Alex’s business. If anything, the bar looked better than before (aka, actually sanitary).

Zack was chuckling at Pete’s story about Alex trying to push the things out with a broom, only to have them climb up the broom and jump on him. The story was interrupted when the front door slammed open and someone eagerly yelled out “ZACK!”

Heaving a weary sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, Zack called out, “In the kitchen, Brendon.” They were soon greeted by the young wolf and a human friend of his. Ah yeah, Zack had told him about this. The ‘girlfriend’ or whatever. Pete wasn’t buying it.

“Zack! Hey!” Brendon was practically bouncing in place as he spoke, voice loud and excited. “We were wondering― or… I was wondering… There’s a party tonight! Not like a big party or anything. It’s at Shane’s house, just some of his friends hanging out and stuff, but I’m invited! Or... Sarah and I are invited, but _I’m invited!_ Can I go? Please? I’ve never been invited to a party before!”

He continued to bounce until the human girl put her hand on his shoulder. He stilled but kept looking up at Zack with huge, pleading eyes. ‘Puppy dog eyes’ Pete thought with a smirk.

Zack had an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed while he talked with Brendon about this party. Pete watched the whole thing from behind Brendon and ignored the curious looks the human girl was shooting him.

“You’d better stay out of trouble. I don’t want you getting up to anything you know you’re not supposed to.” He seemed hesitant, even as Brendon assured him that _‘of course he’d stay out of trouble Zack what kind of kid do you think I am?’_ Pete caught Zack’s eye over Brendon’s shoulder and mouthed the words, “I’ll look after him.” Why not? The kid deserved to have some fun, and better to have permission to go out rather than sneaking around all the time, the way Pete had. Zack nodded and seemed to relax a bit.

“Your curfew is midnight,” he said, and that got Brendon bouncing again.

He darted in and hugged Zack, saying, “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”

Zack just patted him on the head and pushed him off gently. “If you need a ride you call one of us. Me or Jon or Spence, okay?”

“Totally!” Brendon chirped. “Home by midnight, don’t get into trouble, got it. Come on, Sarah, let’s go!” In a small hurricane of action, the two teenagers ran out of the apartment and left it calm and silent again in a matter of moments.

“You’ll keep an eye on him?” Zack asked.

Pete tapped his temple with his pointer finger and winked. “Nothing good on TV tonight anyways,” he said.

 

…

Okay, so maybe the get together was a bit larger than just a few of Shane’s friends hanging out in his basement. Brendon wasn’t sure if it was originally intended to be that big, or if it had happened on accident, but he figured it didn’t count as lying if he hadn’t known in the first place.

He knew that he said he’d stay out of trouble, but ten minutes after following Sarah through the front door, someone was pushing a wine cooler into his hand, and it was the best thing that Brendon had ever tasted where alcohol was concerned. He knew that it was wrong to drink alcohol, and the disgusting taste of beer and rum he’d sampled before made it easy to resist that temptation, but now that Brendon knew it could taste like lemonade, he might have a bit of a problem following that rule. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like his parents were there to see him.

He kind of wished they were though. Just to see the looks on their faces. Speaking of parents, where the hell were Shane’s? Was this even his house? Brendon wasn’t entirely sure.

The living room was crowded with people gathered around a piano and piled on couches. The kid on the piano, one of the seniors in the drama club, was tapping out a subpar rendition of “Piano Man.” Brendon probably could have played it better if he tried, but he wandered into the kitchen instead, following the sound of gaudy laughter.

Sarah had gone missing, and Brendon felt a little shy without her to follow around. That was okay, though. She deserved to have fun. She shouldn’t have to be stuck hanging out with him. She wasn’t in the kitchen when he looked, but Brendon did see those guys that had been beating up bathroom kid a few weeks ago, so he turned on heel and headed in the other direction. Tonight was not the night to deal with that.

The basement happened to be the best option, in the end. There was a Disney movie, “Tangled” the Rapunzel one, playing on the TV and an empty space on the couch to watch. Everyone in the basement smelled like weed, and they all seemed pretty happy to see Brendon even though he didn’t know any of them. They were nice though, and they let Brendon sit next to them and sang along to all the songs. Brendon didn’t feel so shy anymore.

He’d always been told that intoxicants made people relax, but after two wine coolers and a few puffs from a joint that was getting passed around, he felt more twitchy and on edge than ever. He tucked his leg up under him and fiddled with the cuff of his sock while the movie played on. Nobody else was really paying attention at that point; they were either giggling quietly about something that didn’t make much sense, when Brendon listened in, or they had passed out. One kid was asleep against Brendon’s shoulder, breathing weed tinted breath all over Brendon’s neck and mumbling under his breath occasionally.

After Tangled was over, someone put in a movie that Brendon had never seen before. It started with a giant singing mouth, and the farther it went on the less sense it made. There was a wedding? And a cross dresser? At one point at least four people jumped to their feet and made a stumbling mockery of whatever dance was going on in the movie (lots of hip thrusting) that had Brendon laughing out loud. By the time the song "Sweet Transvestite" came on, Brendon felt both giggly and incredibly uncomfortable, because he was pretty sure his father would have beat him for even thinking about watching this movie.

They were just getting to an incredibly awkward (in Brendon’s opinion) sex scene, and Brendon couldn’t keep up with who was fucking who, actually. He knew his face was burning though, so he did his best not to make eye contact with the screen or anyone in the room. A hand landing too hard on his shoulder made him jump nearly out of his skin, and one of the stoners to his left started giggling.

“Hey there.” Shane’s breath was hot where it tickled his ear, and his scent was clouded over with a thick blanket of alcohol. Brendon wrinkled his nose up. “Enjoying the party?”

Shane’s arm wrapped around Brendon’s neck, and that was definitely his cheek resting against Brendon’s head. Shane was acting kind of ridiculous, and he was actually swaying. Brendon laughed at him quietly.

“Yeah,” he said, “It’s great.” It wasn’t what Brendon had always seen on TV when it came to teen parties. There wasn’t any thudding music or flashing lights or impromptu games of spin the bottle. It was still kind of fun though.

“Wanna make it greater?” Shane whispered with his mouth pressed against Brendon’s ear. Brendon pulled away from the ticklish sensation and raised an eyebrow at him. Shane smirked at him and tugged where his hand was clutching the back of Brendon’s hoodie. “Come on, come upstairs and lemme show you something.”

Well, Brendon may not be drunk, but he did have a crush on this guy, so of course he pushed the stoner off of his shoulder and followed Shane up the stairs of the basement, and then the rest of the way to the second level. There was nothing actually to see up there, and Brendon was just about to ask what they were doing in Shane’s bedroom, but then he kind of lost the option to talk.

It happened in a blur of action, Shane’s mouth smacking against his and Shane tasting like beer and Shane’s hands on his hips and in his hair and Shane’s scent filling his nose, and everything was so overwhelmingly _Shane_ that Brendon barely had time to process the thought _‘oh my God, he’s_ kissing _me’_ when the backs of his knees knocked against the mattress and he fell backwards.

Shane fell on top of him, and he was either too drunk to catch himself properly or too clumsy, because he bounced against Brendon’s chest and just about knocked the wind out of him. He didn’t have time to catch his breath before the kissing started again, but it wasn’t like he was complaining. He didn’t need to breathe when Shane was kissing him. _Shane._ A _senior_ who was totally hot and totally out of his league and totally… totally grinding against Brendon’s thigh.

Okay… Okay yeah, Brendon could work with that. He was starting to understand how making out with Sarah was supposed to go. Why she had wanted to. There was something warm and happy pooling in his stomach, and jerking off alone in his bedroom never had him feeling as desperate as he did in this position.

Shane rolled off of Brendon and pulled on him until they switched places. Brendon was on top and Shane was rubbing his hands down Brendon’s back and grabbing his ass and kissing him again. He was holding him tight in place, his touch more forceful than Sarah’s ever was. Brendon couldn’t have moved even if he wanted to.

All Brendon could hear was Shane’s heartbeat and all he could smell was Shane’s scent and all he could feel was Shane touching him everywhere. When Shane rolled his hips up, a slightly embarrassing noise fell out of Brendon’s mouth and he jerked his down without thinking about it.

Then Shane was pushing Brendon off of him and Shane’s hands were at Brendon’s zipper and Brendon’s never had anyone do this before. He felt panic curl in the pit of his stomach, and he pushed Shane’s hands away.

“Hey wait,” he said, because this was wrong. Making out was one thing but this was something else entirely. The chanting in his head was back, the condemning choir of ‘SIN SIN SIN’ throbbing in time with Shane’s elevated heart beat. This was so wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be doing this. He―

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Shane whispered, too loud from the alcohol. Brendon wasn’t sure he wanted to do this for the first time with someone who was drunk, even if he did have a crush on Shane.

“But…” Shane’s hand rubbing him through his jeans made his words trail off.

“Don’t you wanna break some of the rules, Brendon?” Shane’s question had Brendon nodding almost immediately. Yeah. Yeah, he wanted to break the rules. That was a running theme tonight. He said he’d be good, but go big or go home, right? “Don’t you trust me?”

Nodding, nodding, Brendon breathed out a “yeah, okay,” and went back to kissing Shane while the older boy’s hands unfastened his pants, and if Brendon thought his head was spinning before, it was nothing compared to after.

  
  
**Chapter 9**   
  
  


Jon woke up that morning to a lot of weird noises.  Half awake, it took him a moment to blink the sleep out of his eyes and make sense of everything.  Dylan hissing.  Fabric being torn.  Growling.  Bedsprings squeaking.  Opening his eyes revealed Dylan scrambling out of the room on tiny, panicked cat feet and Spencer, in his wolf form, growling at Jon.

He blinked his eyes again, just for good measure, and sat up straight.  Spencer’s lips pulled back to snarl at him.  Jon took the special precaution of staying absolutely still.  Spencer was still growling, his wolf eyes glazed over the way they did when he blacked out.  Jon felt his heart hammering in barely awake panic, and he knew Spencer could hear it too.

“Spence.” Jon kept his voice even.  “Spence.  Hey.”  He crept out from under the covers and moved until he was closer to the wall than to Spencer.  He remembered his mom’s advice (“the best way to deal with a wolf is as a wolf”) and decided that now was as great a time as any to start listening to his mother.

Before he got the chance to shift, though, Spencer lunged at him.  Jon’s reflexes weren’t the best, perhaps.  His first reaction was to scramble back, and he ended up throwing himself off the bed, into small space between his bed and the wall.

  
“Oh shit!” he yelped as his head knocked against the wall.  He was stuck tight in the small space, shoulders pressed in a vice with a snout full of teeth right there.  “Spencer! Spence, wake up, man.  Come on,” he pleaded.  Spencer growled and snapped.  Growling back had no effect whatsoever.  

After one lunge that got just a bit too close for comfort, actually grazing Jon’s cheek, Jon shoved his hand under his bed and groped for anything he could get his grip on.  There was something down there.  Something with a cold metal handle.  Something hefty enough to help.  He had to act fast.  As Spencer lunged again, Jon braced his feet on the bed and shoved, sending it skidding across the room and giving Jon plenty of space to move.  It also gave Spencer room to jump on top of him.  As Spencer’s teeth dove towards Jon’s throat, Jon’s hand came flying up, clutching the mystery weapon, and slammed into the side of Spencer’s head.  

There was an animal yelp as Spencer tumbled sideways off of Jon.  He shifted in the air and was fully human by the time he hit the ground.  He was also unconscious.

“Oh God,” Jon said, looking down at the five pound weight he clutched in his hand, a gift from his eldest brother last Christmas.  He tossed the thing aside, and it landed with a heavy thump that probably dented the floor under the thin carpet and woke up their downstairs neighbors.

He didn’t wait for the banging of a broom handle.  Let them be pissed.  Instead he crawled over to where Spencer was groaning, sitting up, and holding the side of his head.

“Wha…?” the puppy said, his face wrinkled into a pained expression.  As he sat up on his elbows and looked at Jon, his face became a perfect picture of wounded confusion.

“Shit, Spence, I’m sorry,” he said, helping Spencer to sit up with a hand on his back.  He pushed Spencer’s hair back to check out the damage.  There was already a purple knot rising up near his temple.

“What happened?” Spencer asked, gently pulling his head away and rubbing at it again.  He squinted at Jon.  “Dude, you’re bleeding.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jon shrugged him off.  He wasn’t the one that had gotten smacked with a dumbbell. “Are you okay?  Do you need some ice?”

“It happened again, didn’t it?” Spencer said.  His face darkened quickly, from confusion to embarrassment to anger, and he jerked out of Jon’s grasp entirely.

“It’s not a big deal, pup-”

“I bit you,” Spencer spat out at him, and then clenched his teeth and cursed under his breath.  “I- God damn it!” He climbed to his feet and swayed a bit.  He slapped away Jon’s hands when he reached up to steady him. Anger and anxiety swirled around Spencer as he threw clothes on and literally ran out of the apartment.  Jon wasn’t fast enough to catch him.  He knew he wasn’t fast enough, but he ran after Spencer anyways.

“Spencer! Wait!” the front door slammed, and Zack appeared in the living room behind him.  

“What the hell?” the alpha asked, arms crossed and a perplexed expression decorating his face with a frown and furrowed eyebrows.  Jon rubbed both of his hands over his face and winced as one touched the abrasion on his cheek.  His neck was stinging too.  Damn.  Damn that had been a really close call.

“You might want to go after him,” Jon said.  He wasn’t the alpha here.  He’d done all he could do.  Glancing at the hooks by the door, he bit his lip and noticed the empty space.  “He took your keys.”

...

 

It figures that after the morning’s festivities Jon wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.  Not like he needed more sleep.  Not like he’d almost been killed by his best friend or anything.  Nope, not at all. Hell, he didn’t need sleep; he needed a fucking drink.

He considered that, actually.  After starting up the coffee machine, he got up on a chair and opened up the highest cabinet above the microwave, where Zack kept his not-exactly-a-secret stash of alcohol.  Whiskey sounded good.  That’s what men in old movies drank when they were stressed, right?  There was beer in the very back of the fridge too.  He could do that.

In the end he didn’t do any of it.  He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down on the couch to watch Dance Moms since no one else was home (or awake) to make fun of him.  He figured that with whatever was going on with Spencer, he really didn’t need to test Zack’s patience by stealing his booze.  He’d seen the wolf snap a few times, and he’d rather not prompt that reaction again.  

Coffee was just as good anyways.  Jon sat on the couch with his reality TV and his lukewarm drink and fiddled with his camera for a while, trying to get a picture of the coffee table that looked artistic without looking pretentious.  It didn’t work, and he gave up when he heard a door open and Brendon came shuffling into the room.

Two distinct scents hit him the moment Brendon flopped onto the couch next to him: weed and sex.    While that was interesting, so were the dark shadows plaguing Brendon’s eyes and the way he sagged into the couch like he hadn’t slept for years.

“Hey Bren,” he said with a sideways glance at the boy.  “You feelin’ okay?”

Brendon turned towards him and blinked, slow and cat-like, before giving a small shrug and looking back at the TV.  “I’m great,” he said as Abby made a small child cry and Dylan hopped onto the couch to curl up in Jon’s lap.  Jon scratched him behind the ears and kept watching Brendon.

“You sure about that?  Sleep okay?”

“Slept fine,” Brendon answered in a deadpan.  “Slept a lot.  I’m just tired.  Nothing’s wrong.”  The only problem was that everything about Brendon was totally contradicting his words, but… if he didn’t want to talk about it… maybe nothing was actually wrong.

“Okay,” he said.  “So how was the party last night, Romeo?”

That got a reaction, at least.  Brendon’s eyes widened and he his cheeks turned pink when Jon winked at him.  He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, and finally spoke.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jon laughed and jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow.  Dylan protested the movement by digging his claws into Jon’s thigh.  “Come on, dude.  You smell like a frat party.”

 

It wasn’t like Jon had ever actually been to a frat party (there were certain experiences one missed when they skipped college), but he figured the media gave him a good enough idea of what one would smell like.  Booze and sex and weed, probably.  It just seemed to make sense.

“So, who’d you bang?” he pressed.  He was curious, and teasing Brendon was fun.   Brendon made a really bothered face and squirmed in his seat a bit.

“I didn’t bang anyone,” he said all defensively, crossing his arms and pulling feet up onto the couch.  He paused, contemplative, and then said, “Unless handjobs count.  Cause then there was totally banging.”

Jon couldn’t help the obnoxious laughs that burst out of him.  He really couldn’t.  Even if he was being rude, and Brendon was turning even pinker.  This was all too great.

“And I didn’t smoke any weed last night,” Brendon added.  “The kids in the basement did while we watched a movie about crossdressers,”

Jon was able to contain the laughter enough to ask, “Crossdressers?”

“And aliens,” Brendon said with a solemn nod.

“Rocky Horror?” Jon asked.

“There were lips,” Brendon said, looking vaguely confused, and it happened again.  Jon burst out laughing even harder than before, so loud that Dylan abandoned his lap to curl up with Brendon.  Brendon sighed dejectedly before hugging the cat to his chest and burying his face in Dylan’s fur.  

“Congratulations, Casanova,” Jon said, patting him on the knee.  “Make sure you shower before Zack and Spence get back though.  Don’t want you getting in trouble.”  Brendon  nodded and continued nuzzling his face into Dylan’s fur (the cat didn’t mind) and didn’t say anything, so Jon turned his attention back to the TV.  TLC had switched from Dance Moms to Four Weddings, which was just as good as far as Jon was concerned.  He slouched on the couch and watched four of the most God awful weddings he’d ever seen take place in Texas.  He even got Brendon to laugh a few times by yelling at the TV.

...

 

A note scrawled on notebook paper and taped to the front door read ‘closed until further notice.’  Zack shouldered the door open anyways and kicked his snow covered shoes off at the door.  He knew how crazy Tommy was about puddles in his gym.  He didn’t care if you had to go barefoot; he didn’t want to see any damned puddles.  

Speak of the devil, Tommy popped out of the locker room and took one of the coffees out of Zack’s hand.  It was for him anyways, an apology, so it didn’t matter.

“He’s near the back. By the mats.  Been doing sprints for half an hour.  It’s kinda freaking me out,” Tommy said.  He took a sip of his coffee, then cringed and popped the lid off to let it cool more.  “Thanks for the coffee, man.  I get here at seven, y’know?  Thinking I’ll get a sweat in before opening up the place.  Shoulda seen my surprise when I find your kid in here already, eyes all fucked up and shit.  It’s like he’s killing himself back there, man.  It’s intense.  I offered to train with him.  He fucking growled at me.”

“Today’s been bad,” Zack said.  “One of those days.”

“Bad day at eight in the morning,” Tommy said with a shake of the head.  “That’s legitimate, man.”

“I’m going to go talk to him.” Zack handed Tommy the other coffee he was holding, figuring that he deserved some kind payment for putting up with the moody young werewolf all morning.  Tommy threw a smirk and wandered over to his desk, where he could prop his feet up and survey the whole place.  Zack rolled his shoulders and headed in Spencer’s direction.

 

He just stood back and watched for a while as Spencer threw himself back and forth across the side length of the gym, sprinting until he smacked the opposite wall and then heading back.  He was obviously exhausted, panting and dripping sweat.  His long brown hair was sticking to his face and neck.  He didn’t slow down though.  He ran full speed for five laps and halfway through the sixth, which was when he doubled over, dropping to his knees and trembling all over.

Zack watched him carefully.  Watched as he clenched his teeth against protruding canines and dug the sharpened claws on his fingers into his palms.  The few times he opened his eyes, they flashed manically between wolf and human, and every shaky exhale was accompanied with a throaty growl or a high whine.

He stayed like that for a few minutes until he started to calm down.  He unclenched slowly, and as soon as the tremors stopped he was back up again, sprinting from one end to the other.  He was so focused that he didn’t once glance over and see Zack watching him.  Zack considered what to do about this while he made his way to the locker room and changed into something he could move around in.  He listened in on Spencer’s breathing, his heart rate.  From what he could tell, Spencer was trying to train himself.  It was one of the exercises Zack had gone through with him.  Get your heart rate going as fast as you can, and then don’t let yourself shift over.  Spencer did well at it after enough practice, but Zack had never pushed him this hard.  Judging by the boy’s actions, though, and whatever had happened that morning (god forbid Jon actually tell him, the vague fucker), maybe he should have.

Too late to think back now, though.  He went back to the other side of the gym just in time to see Spencer collapse again.  A growl ripped its way out of his throat and sounding almost like a scream.  Spencer was going to hurt himself, the way his nails were digging into the floor and the strength with which he was clenching his jaw.  It was probably time to step in.

“Breathe,” he commanded, using his alpha voice to cut through the frenzy that was the young man in front of him.  He kneeled next to him and squeezed a firm hand around the back of Spencer’s neck.  “Breathe, pup.”

Spencer unclenched his jaw and let his mouth fall open as he panted.  His eyes were stuck in wolf mode, and Zack waited for them to switch back before talking to Spencer anymore.  He needed the pup to calm down first.

Once they did, he said, “I think it’s time for a break, kid.”

Spencer closed his eyes and shook his head.  When he tried to stand, Zack kept a solid hold on his neck and held him down.  Spencer didn’t fight it at all.

“Tell me what happened,” Zack said after a moment.  He let go of Spencer, pretty sure he wasn’t going to immediately bounce back into his insane workout routine.  The kid was sweating so much that his entire shirt was soaked through, not just parts of it.  

Spencer sat up but kept his eyes unfocused over Zack’s shoulder.  He rubbed at his neck, where the skin had turned red, and then looked down at the four bleeding triangles on each of his palms and gently ran his thumb over all of them.  

“I’m not good enough yet,” he said, pressing against the wounds in his hands until Zack encircled his wrist and pulled his hand away.  “I can’t control myself when I’m asleep, and I’m going to seriously hurt someone.”

“We can figure out a new arrangement to make you feel more secure.  Have you rooming alone or whatever, until we get a better handle on this,” he offered.  “You’re not expected to be perfect only a month into this.”

Spencer shrugged.  He clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, watching the cuts heal themselves over.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Zack noticed.  The only response he got was a shrug.  “Spencer.”

Spencer looked up at him and then shifted his gaze away to the wall.  “It was different this time.”

“What was?”

“I still blacked out, or… at least I did at first.  I didn’t know what had happened right when I snapped out of it, y’know?  Like normal.  But now... Fuck, now I can remember all of it.  Jon couldn’t defend himself fast enough.  I drew blood.  He was so scared, but I didn’t care.  All I wanted to do was hurt him.”  He clenched his fist and slammed it into his thigh.  He bared his teeth.  He yelled, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me!”

“You were aware?” Zack asked.  He’d have to ask Maggie about this.  He’d never known someone who was changed to become an alpha, and he’d never known it to be this hard for natural born wolves who were alphas.  He didn’t know if Maggie knew either, but it was worth a shot.

Spencer nodded his head.  “But I couldn’t control it.”

Zack squeezed his neck again, gently this time, to comfort him rather than control him.  Spencer closed his eyes and took another shaky breath.  When he let it out and opened his eyes, they were entirely human.  Not flickering a bit.  

“We’ll figure this out, okay pup?”

Spencer nodded.

“Let’s go again.”  Zack clapped Spencer on the shoulder and rose to his feet.  “I’ll race you.”

Spencer glanced up at him, a slight smirk playing at the boys lips as he said, “You’re on.”  They ran until they were both ready to collapse, and when Spencer did collapse, Zack caught him and made him breathe through it.  The thing was, Zack didn’t know for sure what was going on.  He had no way of knowing if Spencer was turning into an alpha or simply losing his mind, but either way, Zack wasn’t letting this kid turn rogue.  He’d do whatever it took.  Spencer would make it through whatever the hell this was.

...

Sarah was out of the house early on Monday morning and caught a bus across town rather than walking.  It wasn’t that far of a walk, but there was a bus stop only a few blocks from her house, and she’d rather ride in a warm bus for fifteen minutes than walk through the frigid air, downhill, skating on slush and ice, for half an hour.

It took her a moment to remember which floor the apartment was on, since she’d only been there a few times and all the hallways were identical.  Not wanting to knock on the wrong person’s door at nine a.m., she went back downstairs and checked all the names on the mail boxes.  There it was: ‘Hall, Walker, Smith, Urie- 504.’  Brendon’s family was weird because they all had different last names, but there were a lot of weird things about Brendon that she was getting used to.  As far as friends go, there were worse people to have.

That didn’t stop her from being pissed at him though.  It wasn’t so much what he and Shane had done that had her upset, although she really would have appreciated it if either of those losers had told her.  For the love of God, how many times had she pointed out Brendon’s totally obvious crush on Shane, just to have him say ‘no, no, really, it’s nothing.’  Bull shit.  It was something.  And Shane, that fucker.  She’d had no idea he had a thing for Brendon, or even that he was into guys.  Yet there they were, sneaking upstairs together during a party and disappearing for an hour in someone’s bedroom.  They were totally obvious, and if she could figure it out that easy, so could other people.

No, though, that wasn’t why she was mad.  She was mad that Brendon had ditched her.  She’d gone to the bathroom for five minutes, and suddenly he was gone.  Next thing she knew the party was over and Brendon wasn’t answering her texts.  Radio silence for two days.  He could have been dead, for all she knew, and if he wasn’t already then she was going to kill him.

Sarah found apartment 504 and wrapped on the door three times, producing a muffled knocking sound through her gloves.  She pulled them off.  When there wasn’t an answer, she knocked again and eventually heard footsteps.

The door was opened by someone tall and a bit older than her.  Ah yeah, this was Spencer.  She’d met him a few times, but she was usually bad at names.  He squinted down at her, looking rumpled and confused.

“Uhm…” he said intelligently as he scratched the back of his head and frowned at her.  “Good morning?”

“Hi Spencer,” she said and gave him a smile.  Spencer wasn’t the one she was mad at here.  “I’m here to see Brendon.”

“He’s asleep.”  Spencer looked like he was still asleep himself.  Nonetheless, he stepped out of the way and motioned for her to come inside.  She followed him in and looked around the apartment, which always looked cleaner than she expected, considering it was only occupied by guys.  Sarah spent a lot of time at home picking up after her brother, and she would have had to pick up after her dad too if he didn’t spend every waking hour at work.

Sarah crossed the room and sat down on their couch, totally comfortable.  She was there with a purpose, and it was damn cold outside.  She wasn’t going to make a second trip to have this conversation.

Spencer looked a bit confused for another moment before sighing and shrugging.  “I’ll go get him then,” he said.  He stretched his arms above his head and yawned as he headed out, and the pull of his shirt revealed a strip of smooth skin on his stomach.  He was more attractive than she’d noticed at first glance.  She wouldn’t mind hanging his picture up on her bedroom wall.

She heard voices from the other room.  Spencer’s voice was clearly saying ‘no, get the hell up,’ and she couldn’t make out what Brendon was saying, but he was obviously complaining.  It was only a few moment’s wait before Spencer re-entered the room, carrying Brendon, who was shirtless and flailing, bodily over his shoulder.  He then dropped him onto the couch, practically on top of Sarah.

“Don’t be loud,” Spencer ordered as he left the room and slammed a door behind him.  Brendon rolled his eyes, obviously pissed off.  Sarah was pissed too, though, so she just shoved Brendon off her lap and stood up.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Brendon said, looking up at her from where he’d been dumped on the floor.  “But why are you here?”

“Making sure you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere, since, y’know, you won’t text me back.”  She crossed her arms and glared at him, and she would have been lying if she said she didn’t feel a little better from the guilty look on his face.

“Uhm,” he stood up slowly and wrapped his arms around his middle.  “I meant to text you?”  It rose up like a question at the end which meant he was lying.  She rolled her eyes.

“Save it,” she snapped.  “You totally ditched me at that party.”

“You disappeared!”

“I told you I was going to the bathroom and asked you to wait for me!” Sarah argued, watching as Brendon’s face went from defensive back to guilty again.

“Oh…” he said.  “You did?  I… sorry….”

She waved him off.  “It just kind of freaked me out, y’know?  I take a party virgin out and then lose you in five minutes-”

“What the hell is a party virgin?”

“-then you disappear upstairs to get it on and I don’t hear from you for two days.”

“Look, I’m sorry-” Brendon froze and looked up at her.  “Wait, what?”

“Oh my God, don’t even try to deny what you got up to at that party, Brendon.  I’m not an idiot,” Sarah rolled her eyes hard.  Brendon was blushing like a priest in a whorehouse and had taken to staring at the floor instead of making eye contact.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, “and even if I did, it’s none of your business.”

Sarah’s mouth fell open as she gaped at him.  “None of my business?” she scoffed and had to refuse the urge to shove him.  “Fuck you,” she spat instead.  Brendon’s head snapped up, and he stared at her, guilty again.  He opened his mouth to speak, but she plowed over him.  “You had sex with Shane.”

“I- What?  No!  I… I don’t want to talk about it, okay?  Stop looking at me like that!”

“Well I do!”

“It’s none of your business!”

Sarah rolled her eyes hard and crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

 

“I don’t get why you’re so mad at me!”  Brendon said, and Sarah could tell he was getting angry too.  He was yelling now.  

“Cause you’re being a dick!”

“I didn’t realize I had to tell you about everything I do!  My bad, I apologize.  I’ll write you a report next time.”

“Would you stop?”

“Why do you even care what I do?  What, are you jealous?  Are you in love with me or something?

Their shouting gave way to an eerie silence.  Both of them stood there, tense and glaring at each other.  Fists clenched, jaws locked.  Brendon’s eyes seemed to be flashing.  Sarah wanted to scream.

 **  
**“You know what?  I’ve been trying really hard here to ignore my crush on you and not be mad at you about the break up, so I think you owe it to me to at least tell me when you’re making out with my best friend behind my back.” She deadpanned.  She balled her fists at her sides and watched Brendon shift uncomfortably.  “And I’m not jealous, I just… ugh!” She threw her hands up in the air, noticing the way Brendon flinched back and not even caring.  “Text me back when you’re done being an asshole,” she said, poking him in the chest to make him flinch again.

She turned on heel and stormed out of the apartment.  The talk wasn’t supposed to go like that.  He was supposed to tell her about Shane, and then they were supposed to sit around and talk about it and she was going to warn him that Shane was kind of a player and to be careful, but fine.  If Brendon wanted to be a jerk, then Sarah didn’t want to talk to him.  She zipped her coat up and stomped out of the apartment building, back into the windy winter weather.

...

They’re in his old bedroom at his parent’s house, and Spencer would wonder why if he wasn’t otherwise occupied.  His bed still had the green comforter on it, with the brown stain near the top where Ryan spilled grape juice seven years prior.  Spencer wasn’t sure why he was thinking about grape juice stains, though, not when he had Jon on his bed, spread out and warm underneath him.  That had definitely never happened in his bedroom before, but like before, he was too distracted to question it.

“Please.”  Jon’s voice was deep and rough, and the fingertips attached to the hands in Spencer’s hair were rough too.  

Spencer was fully clothed, but Jon was shirtless and pale and just a little bit hairy.  Spencer could somehow see all of Jon while still laying on top of him, and he wasn’t questioning it because the heat in his lower stomach and the feeling of them moving together was addicting.  It didn’t matter if it made sense, not when it felt this good.  They were kissing, but Spencer felt like he was both participating and watching it all happen.  Jon’s short beard was scruffy against Spencer’s chin where a girl would be smooth, but his tongue was hot and perfect.  They were still moving.  Everything was hot and boiling in the pit of Spencer’s stomach, and Spencer knew what happened next, was excited for it.  And then…

His breath hitched in his chest, and his hips stuttered up at nothing while his mind flickered awake.  His vision was white for a moment, but Spencer blinked the stars and the dream out of his vision and tried to focus.  A dream, right.  Another stupid dream.

He closed his eyes and covered them with his hands, trying to get his heart to stop hammering and his body to stop tingling.  He’d just came in his pants, and if that wasn’t the most humiliating, junior high thing that had ever happened to him before, Spencer didn’t know what was.  At least no one was there to see it.  At least there was that.

Except there was a snickering noise coming from a few feet away from him.  Spencer peeked out from behind his hands to see Jon, staring right at him with his lips pressed together to try and conceal laughter.  Spencer felt himself heat up for a different reason this time, from his face to the tips of his ears and all the way down his chest.  

“We just can’t have normal mornings anymore, can we?” Jon teased him, and Spencer couldn’t even find it in him to growl.  He rolled over and pressed his face into the mattress.  The front of his pants was wet, and yeah, that was disgusting.  He was going to ruin all his clothes in his sleep, apparently.  He was either going to come in his pants or tear them to shreds.  Awesome.

“That’s alright.  I’ll give you a moment to yourself,” Jon said, and it would have been nice, sure, if Jon wasn’t grinning a shit eating grin from ear to ear.  A total cheshire cat.

“I hate you,” Spencer said.

“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” Jon asked from near the doorway.  He had to be teasing.  There was no way.  Because if Spencer talked in his sleep, Jon might have heard him say… Oh God.

Spencer lugged a pillow at Jon’s head as hard as he could and yelled, “Go away!”

Jon just laughed, ducked, and closed the door behind him.

…

A text had come in while he was at dinner.  It buzzed against his thigh, and he’d glanced down at it.  The message read **hey this is Shane;)** with an honest to God winky face and everything.  Brendon’s heart started beating so fast that Zack reached across the table to put his hand on Brendon’s forehead and asked if he was sick.

“Sick with looooove,” Jon smirked at him.  Spencer snickered at that, and the two exchanged a friendly grin while Brendon glared at them.

“What?” Zack asked.  No one said anything, and Brendon was just happy that Spencer and Jon had actually made eye contact.  They’d been acting really weird all day.  Jon kept trying to talk to him, and Spencer kept snapping.  Then Jon would get a sad look on his face and make another joke or shrug, and the conversation would die, and Brendon had to sit there looking awkwardly between them and wondering what had made them both go mental.

The text message helped though.  Instead of worrying about Spencer and Jon’s radio silence, Brendon thought about the text message and grinned to himself.  Zack kept making weird faces at him, obviously confused as to where this good mood had come from.  Spencer and Jon kept making weird faces at each other.  Things were set back to normal.

It was the text message that lead to Brendon standing at the edge of a long gravel driveway.  The flat area of land spread out in front of him glistened with snow, and the just setting sun cast everything in an orange tint.  Shane had picked Brendon up for this party, but when they’d gotten there he’d headed towards the bonfire crackling in the distance and told Brendon to wait.  He didn’t want them arriving at the same time, he said, and Brendon nodded because that made sense.  He was willing to wait.  He just didn’t know how long he was supposed to.

It was pretty chilly outside, and he really wanted to be closer to the bonfire.  After waiting what he figured was five minutes, Brendon stuffed his shaking hands in his pockets and trudged down the driveway towards the glowing party ahead.

There was hardly any place to sit when he got there.  The party was big, and Brendon was beginning to suspect that Shane only ever went to big parties.  There were camp chairs and logs and a picnic table pulled into a haphazard circle around the bonfire.  One of the only empty places was next to Shane, so Brendon went and sat there.  There were enough kids around the fire that nobody noticed (or maybe they just didn’t care) when Brendon joined the party.  No one asked who the stupid sophomore was or who invited him, and Shane gave him a friendly grin when Brendon joined him on the log.

There was some kind of game going on with half the circle.  People were taking turns whispering in each other’s ears.  There was laughter and suddenly someone’s name would be shouted.  Sometimes people would crawl across the snow to kiss someone on the cheek.  Several people were missing shirts and jackets.  Two boys were arguing loudly over whether gloves counted as a clothing item.

“Here, drink this,” Brendon hadn’t even noticed Shane was gone until the older boy was settling down on the log again, holding two steaming foam cups in his hands and handing one over to Brendon.  Brendon took it and gazed at the contents with a bit of speculation.  It was obviously apple cider, and from what Brendon could smell there wasn’t anything else mixed in with it.  It wasn’t spiked, so he sipped at it.  The hot liquid burned his tongue and fogged up his glasses.

Someone pulled out blankets, and one of them got tossed at Shane, who covered up himself, some girl to his left, and Brendon.  The girl on Shane’s left seemed flattered, curling up against his shoulder.  She probably had no idea that, underneath the blanket, Shane’s hand was cupped over the front of Brendon’s jeans, and Brendon was trying his hardest not to squirm.  

They got roped into the game, somehow, but Brendon wasn’t complaining.  When it was Shane’s turn, he picked Brendon.  Hot lips pressed to his ear came with directions.  “Count to two hundred after I get up, then follow me.”  Brendon wasn’t sure what Shane was talking about, since that had nothing to do with the game they were playing whatsoever.  

He caught on when Shane stood up and declared, “I gotta piss,” before leaving.  It was still Brendon’s turn though, so he would just have to wing it.  He glanced around the circle before leaning over to the girl who had been on Shane’s left and kissing her on the cheek.  She giggled, as did several other people, and the girl’s maybe-boyfriend pulled off his flannel shirt and demanded to know what the question was.  

Brendon said, “Who would most likely survive a Jurassic Park movie,” as the question.  Several guys seemed to be insulted that Brendon would pick her and not them, and they bickered amongst each other about who had the best crossbow or whether you could ride a raptor like a horse.  Across the firepit, a couple was desperately trying to swallow each other’s tongues, and Brendon remembered his instructions as well as Shane’s hand on his pants.

“Oh crap, I’m past curfew,” he said, standing and looking at his phone, which read ten thirty-five.  His curfew was actually midnight, but no one else knew what time it was or cared if Brendon stayed or not.  He carefully stepped over people and made his way across the yard, towards the barn he’d seen Shane disappear behind.  

When he got there he found Shane leaning against a rusty old car and shivering with his arms crossed over his chest.  Brendon went over to him.

“Hey-.”

 

Shane apparently didn’t feel like talking.  He grabbed onto the front of Brendon’s winter coat and pulled them together, until Brendon was standing between Shane’s legs where Shane was almost sitting on the car.  Brendon could feel the cold metal against his knees through the denim of his pants. It was warm where their chests were flushed together except for a layer of shirts and jackets in between, and Shane’s mouth was hot on Brendon’s. They were kissing before the last letter of his word was escaping from his lips.

They made out for a while.  Shane’s hand was on the back of Brendon’s head to keep him in place.  Brendon had one hand curled into the fabric of Shane’s coat on his chest and the other on Shane’s thigh, which was warm through his jeans, but Brendon was warm.  His hands felt sweaty.

“God,” Shane breathed, breaking the kiss but not letting Brendon go.  His mouth tasted like apple cider but his breathe smelled of alcohol.  The air around them was muddled with campfire smoke and teenagers and the crisp smell of winter all at once.  Shane smelled like the familiar body wash that was always mixed in with his scent and a little like arousal. “You’re like a fucking furnace.”

“I run hot,” Brendon explained.  Did that sound like a cheesy pick up line?  He felt like it did.  It sounded lame, didn’t it?  Oh God…

“C’mere,” Shane murmured.  Strong hands unzipped his coat forcefully enough that Brendon was worried the zipper would break and he’d have to explain to Zack what had happened, because of course Zack would notice.  The zipper didn’t break, though, and Brendon was pulled close again until he and Shane were melting together, sharing body heat.  Warm warm warm.

“Been thinking about this.” Shane’s hands moved to Brendon’s back pockets and pulled him in tight until their bodies rubbed together.  Brendon gasped a little from the friction.  ‘Been thinking about this.’  Been thinking about you.  Shane had been thinking about him, and Brendon was so happy that he wanted to jump around and dance or something.  He settled for making out with Shane instead, which was honestly just as good.

…

 

Shane drove Brendon home afterwards, and Brendon spent the entire ride frozen in his seat.  Everytime he moved, he felt tight panic bouncing around his stomach and a soggy spot in his underwear that made him cringe.  The making out had been awesome, with Shane’s hands on Brendon’s hips pulling them against each other over and over and…  Brendon had moaned into Shane’s mouth, causing the older boy to laugh out loud.  Brendon would have been pretty embarrassed had he not just come in his pants.

“My turn,” Shane had said, pushing Brendon back enough to get his zipper undone.  They made out for another twenty minutes with Shane’s pants shoved down around his thighs and Brendon’s hand doing things that were going to send him to hell, he was pretty sure.  He was slowly becoming okay with that, though.  Or maybe he was just learning not to care.

If Brendon had to trade eternal life for frequent orgasms with a hot, funny, interesting, older boy, then shoot.  He picked hell in a heartbeat.  All the other gay kids would be there anyways.  There were worse fates.

Shane pulled Brendon in for another long kiss when they pulled up in front of the apartment building.  Luckily nobody was awake, and Zack was at work, when Brendon walked through the front door.  He didn’t have to explain his situation to anyone, just went to his bedroom and finished what Shane had started in the car a few minutes before.  He focused his ears and listened to Shane drive away as he did it, imagining skin and lips and hands and Shane saying ‘I’ve been thinking about you.’

…

Christmas came and went.  Brendon apologized to Sarah, and Sarah told him that she was the one who’d given Shane his number.  He figured it was time to stop denying it, so he came clean about what Sarah already knew anyways, and they sat around on her bedroom floor talking about it and throwing popcorn at each other.

Spencer didn’t visit his family for Christmas.  He stayed in the apartment and sulked around and talked to his dad on the phone a few times.  When Brendon asked him about it, Spencer said something like, ‘Who the hell wants to go to Indiana anyways?’ and that had been the end of that discussion.  Ironically, Spencer was trying to have deep discussions too.  He kept cornering Brendon and trying to talk about feelings and sadness and the things Brendon did to himself that even he barely understood.  Brendon didn’t want to talk about it, but he wasn’t as good as Spencer was at shooting down conversations.  More often than not he just went to hide in the same room that Zack was in.  That usually meant chores, but at least he didn’t have to talk about feelings.  

Jon left for a week, spending his time in home sweet Chicago with his family.  He returned two days after Christmas, declaring how warm the thirty degree Colorado weather was and wearing a scarf with his initials on it.  Brendon decided that he had officially lost his mind.

It was that night, two days after Christmas and just an hour after picking Jon up from the airport that the phone rang.  It shouldn’t be a big deal, the phone ringing.  But Zack frowned at it and left the room to answer.  Brendon and Jon had raised their eyebrows at each other and followed to eavesdrop at the doorway (Spencer had rolled his eyes and called them children).  

Through the closed door, through the room and through the tiny speaker of the phone, Brendon heard a semi familiar voice.  

 **  
**“Hey, uhm… I know this is a huge favor… but could you come pick me up?  I’m at the police station….”

  
  
**Chapter 10: When The Lights Are Dim and Your Hands Are Shaking....**   
  
  


“Ryan Key,” the officer guy raised his voice and rapped his knuckles against the metal bars of the holding cell, as if there were anyone else in there besides Ryan and the drunk fatty next to him, who’d passed out a few minutes prior.  The intoxicated beast groaned and blinked his eyes open at the loud noise, coming back into the real world.  Not wanting to deal with that guy anymore than he had to, Ryan jumped to his feet and headed for the now open gate.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” Ryan passed by the officer at the gate, stopping briefly when a strong hand latched too hard onto his upper arm.

“Watch yourself,” the man warned him.  Ryan didn’t respond.  He didn’t care.  What was this cop going to do to him?  Nothing, that was what. There were laws.  Besides, Zack was there now.  Zack wouldn’t let anything happen.

Ryan followed the officer across the miniscule police station.  It was literally three rooms: an office, a bathroom, and the main room.  The main room, which they were in, started at the front door and extended through the building to the holding cell in the back.  The room was divided by a long desk stretching across the middle, where there was a computer and some filing cabinets.  The walls were decorated with portaits of different officers in the town, laws and notices, and other official looking stuff that Ryan didn’t really care about.

On the other side of the tall desk stood Zack and another man.  The latter was a short old man who was at least eighty years old.  At least.  He’d been the one who called the cops. He was the whole reason Ryan was in this mess.  Sure, Ryan had been the one to break into the old guy’s house, but it was still the other man’s fault.

The thing was, it was freezing outside.  It was colder than Ryan had even known was possible, and he’d been struggling through an extended camping trip in a Colorado forest.  He knew cold, at that point, and this was cold.  

The house had also looked abandoned.  Ryan wasn’t an absolute idiot.  He wouldn’t have tried to hide out in a house that actually looked inhabited.  There was dried grass poking up through the two feet or so of snow in the front yard, and the driveway looked like it hadn’t been shoveled since the first snow.  There weren’t any lights on.  There wasn’t any movement within the house.  He’d thought it was safe.  How the hell was Ryan supposed to know that an old man lived inside?  

The old man wasn’t one to be messed with either.  After shoving up the garage door and forcing his way into the house, Ryan had slipped on his own damn melted snow in the seemingly abandoned kitchen.  He’d fallen hard, taking a kitchen chair down with him and causing a huge clatter.  Of course he thought the house was empty.  Some old coot had lived there and died, right?  He took his sweet time getting up, and before he knew what was happening, the ancient homeowner was running into the kitchen with a double barrel shotgun nestled into his shoulder, pointing the thing at Ryan’s head and screaming at him to stay down.

“This your boy, Hall?” the officer nudged Ryan towards Zack, who didn’t look very pleased to see him.  Yeah, Ryan wouldn’t have been very pleased in his position either.  He did his best to look sorry, which wasn’t too hard.  It had been a shit night.

“Yeah, he’s mine,” Zack settled his hand on Ryan’s shoulder, probably part of whatever act he’d pulled to get Ryan out of there.

“I think you owe Mr. Bernacci an apology,” Zack thumb pressed none-too-gently into the nerve on Ryan’s shoulder, causing Ryan to bite his lip and nod immediately.

“I’m very sorry,” he said, trying to sound sincere.  

“Don’t go taking anymore dares from your friends, sonny,” Mr. Bernacci said, and Ryan nodded even though he had no idea what the old geezer was talking about.  “Not everyone will be so understanding, ya hear me?”

“Yes sir.”  Ryan’s mama had raised him to be polite to strangers.  “It’ll never happen again, I promise.”

Zack and the police officer exchanged a few more words.  He pulled Ryan’s backpack out from behind the counter and handed it over.  Zack took his coat off and tossed it over Ryan’s shoulders.  He threw the backpack over his own shoulder and then herded Ryan out of the police station.  He didn’t say anything like ‘Well good luck’ or ‘Get out of here, kid,’ and Ryan took that as an invitation to follow Zack to the car.  They climbed inside, but Zack didn’t turn it on right away.  Ryan wrapped the giant coat around himself and waited.

“So, breaking and entering, huh?” The car engine roared to life with the twist of a key, accompanied by the tell tale ‘click-clack’ of locking car doors.

“You’re locking me in?  That’s fucking creepy.”  Ryan didn’t feel like talking about it, but Zack wasn’t messing around here.

“You want to keep coming to my pack for help, then you’re going to give me some answers.”

“Fine, I won’t bother you any more then.  Is that what you want?”

“I want to help you.”

“Why the hell would you want to do that?”

“You’re on your own, you’re homeless kid, and you’re a werewolf.  Things aren’t easy for our kind, in fact, they’re pretty damned dangerous.  I’ve seen what can happen to people like us out there,” Zack’s voice was all business, and Ryan hated that tone of voice in adults.  Who did they think they were, anyways?

“‘People like us?’” He scoffed.  “You’re not a person, you’re a monster!  You and your whole weird group.  Just… just accepting your condition like that.  It’s wrong.  Monsters like you hurt people.  You’re criminals.”  Ryan didn’t know much about being a werewolf, but he knew that.  He knew what he was.  He knew what people like him did.   

“Yeah, well.  I’m not the one breaking into old men’s houses and getting arrested.  Technically you’re the criminal right now, kid.”

Ryan didn’t have it in him to explain to Zack why that was bullshit.  He didn’t think the man would care anyways.  Ryan cupped his hands together and blew hot breath into them.  Even with the heat cranked up on full blast and Zack’s coat wrapped tight around him, Ryan was still chilled to the bone.  

“So either you can answer my questions and sleep in a warm apartment, or you can go sleep in the woods again,” Zack said.  “The choice is yours, pup.”

How was Ryan even supposed to turn down an offer like that?  

“Fine,” he said.  “I’ll answer your questions, but I’m not telling you everything.”

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” Zack chuckled.  “Name?”

“Ryan Key, I already told you that.” Ryan rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.  What an idiot.

“Yeah, no, your real name.  I’m not an idiot.”

Oh… well then… “William,” Ryan answered.  “My full name is William Ryan Key, but I go by Ryan now.”

Zack nodded.  “Alright.  Where are you from?”

“Jacksonville,” he said.  “Florida.”

“Why’d you leave?”

Ryan felt like he was being ripped open with a fish knife.  All of this information that he’d been keeping a secret for all those months was being pulled out of him and laid out on the passenger seat of the car.

“That’s secret,” he said.

“Alright.”  At least Zack wasn’t enough of an asshole to push it.  “How’d you get here?”

Ryan blew into his hands again and shrugged.  He was starting to defrost.  “Hitchhiked,” he said.  “Took a bus at first, but caught rides after that.”

Zack nodded solemnly.  “You’ve been on your own for a while then.”

“About seven months now,” Ryan answered.  He hadn’t thought about it for a while.  Was it seven now, or was it eight?  What day was it anyway? What month had it been when he left?

Ryan didn’t like thinking about those things, because when he thought real hard he realized things that he didn’t want to.  He realized that he couldn’t remember the last thing he’d said to his mother or what his best friend’s voice sounded like or whether he’d fed his cat the morning he left.

Suddenly feeling choked up, Ryan swallowed hard and focused on the snowflakes that were floating down past the car windows.  It looked like fairy dust, kind of, but not real fairy dust like the stuff he saw when Pete visited him.  It looked like Peter Pan fairy dust, like Disney, like Florida.

 

God damn it.

By some means of magic (fairy dust or otherwise), Zack seemed to realize that he was upset and the conversation was over.  “Alright pup,” he said, putting the car into reverse.  “Let’s get out of here.”

**  
**   
  


…

By the third time it was obvious that ‘hanging out with Sarah’ had become code for going to parties with Shane.  Brendon just hoped Zack didn’t figure out what was going on.  This system was something he’d like to keep going for a while, and he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be allowed out as often if his alpha knew what he was actually getting up to.

**  
**

He was hanging out with Sarah again, this time it was a “back to school” celebration or some other senior thing in someone’s empty house.  The parents were on vacation or something, leaving someone alone at home with an empty house and an excuse to party.

 

No one questioned why Brendon was there, which was another system that he appreciated and hoped to hold on to.  They should have been at least a little bit suspicious, but he was grateful that he didn’t have to go through the trouble of making up a story.  He was kind of really bad at lying.

Shane was better at lying though, which was why he was left in charge of strategy.  For example, Brendon wasn’t allowed to sit next to Shane at this party, or talk to him.  He had to hang out, and Shane would text him when it was time to meet upstairs.  Brendon understood the precautions.  Shane was still in the closet, and he wasn’t ready to come out.  Brendon respected that.  He was out, really, to anyone who asked.  It was just that nobody really asked.  Also, when those guys at school shoved him into lockers and called him a ‘faggot,’ it was more of an accusation than a question, so Brendon didn’t bother agreeing with them.  He figured it was best not to.

Sure enough the text came in, and they ended up in someone’s bedroom again.  Brendon kind of wished that they could spend more time alone than just hanging out in stranger’s bedrooms, but he understood the limits of the universe.

They were making out on whoever’s bed, and the movements were obviously starting to get familiar for them.  Brendon didn’t feel nearly as clumsy this time as he did before, and Shane was quicker to let his hands wander to places like Brendon’s ass, the button of his jeans, the inside of his thigh, up his shirt.  Shane was a solid weight on top with Brendon pliant underneath him.  It was everything in hot skin and pounding heartbeats and swirling scents and wet mouths.

Brendon felt a warm heat in his stomach from their hips rolling against each other, seemingly by their own accord.  His own bucked up when Shane bit down on his bottom lip before pulling away.  The air hit the wet spots on Brendon’s neck, cooling them and making him shiver.

“I want you to blow me,” Shane said.  His hand was cupped over the front of Brendon’s jeans, massaging and making it extremely hard to focus.  It had been a bad day for no other reason than Brendon felt bad, but the heat pounding through Brendon’s body was helping raise spirits, just a little.  A purposeful squeeze had Brendon nodding before he even had time to think about what Shane just said to him.  Shane was already moving off of Brendon and nudging him off the bed when the words started to make sense.  Brendon froze.

“Wait…. Shane, wait.”

“What?” Shane snapped at him, sounding mad, and Brendon didn’t want Shane to be mad at him, but…

Shane already had his jeans pushed down past his knees.  Brendon’s own knees were sore against the hardwood of the bedroom floor.

“I can’t.”  He didn’t honestly know what the hold up was.  He’d like to say it was entirely because he’d never given a blowjob before, but that wasn’t true.  It was just…. a blowjob was kind of a big deal.  A blowjob was pretty darn close to sex, and Brendon could remember the conviction in his uncle’s voice as he said the word ‘cocksucker.’  That started up the familiar chorus of ‘sin sin sin’ and ‘you’re going to hell’ and ‘you’re just not trying hard enough,’ all the stuff Brendon had thought he’d gotten over.  Judging by how nauseated he felt, he was pretty sure putting a dick in his mouth was a horrible idea it the moment.  He’d probably throw up.

“I can’t.  I just can’t, Shane, not tonight, okay?  Please?”

Shane scoffed at him.  “Are you some kind of virgin or something?” and well, yes….  “What kind of queer doesn’t know how to suck dick?”

Shane was definitely mad at him, and Brendon felt like shit.  The good mood that had started to unravel was plummeting fast.  He didn’t want Shane to be mad at him.  He didn’t want to be fighting, but he just couldn’t do this.

“I’m sorry.”

“Fine, whatever,” Shane bit out.  Brendon flinched.  “But you’re finishing what you fucking started.  Come here.”

Brendon stood, just to get shoved back down on the bed.  Shane settled over him again, moving quickly, his hands punishing where they were gripped tight in Brendon’s hair and pressing his hips down to the mattress.  Brendon had seen enough porn to know that dirty talk and manhandling was supposed to be sexy, so he just went with it.  He wrapped his arms around Shane and kissed back, trying to keep up.

They came to a stop a while later, when Shane groans, rutting against Brendon’s thigh.  Brendon hadn’t gotten off yet, but Shane stood up and stopped touching him anyways.

“Fucking cocktease,” he said, which Brendon was mostly sure was dirty talk.  It sounded kind of like dirty talk anyways.  “It’s a good thing you’re hot.  I need a beer.”

SHane left him there, half sitting up on his elbows on a stranger’s bed, throbbing in his pants and dizzy from the lack of blood reaching his brain, not entirely sure what just happened.  Was Shane going to come back?  Did he want Brendon to wait there?  Was Brendon supposed to follow him?  

Twenty minutes later, Shane still hadn’t returned and Brendon was only half hard, so he sighed and snuck out the back door to start the walk home.  It was painfully cold out, even though Brendon ran hot and grew fur on his hands and neck and had his jacket zipped up to his chin.  He shivered and felt sick and couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d done something wrong.

...

It was a relief to have a new semester starting, in Spencer’s opinion.  It was a fresh start.  He didn’t have to worry about cramming for finals or anything.  He could just relax, breathe, and let the new information wash over him as he took it all in, knowing what he was going to do differently the second time around.

He had an ten a.m. computers class twice a week, which so far proved to be just them messing around with excel for two hours.  He didn’t mind.  It was an easy way to start off the day, and his schedule gave him an hour break between the computers class and his two afternoon classes.

There weren’t any familiar faces in the class, though, and Spencer wasn’t the type to make friends with strangers on the first day.  He ended up leaving the classroom alone and wandering lazily down the hall, unlike other students who were rushing and shoving past him.  A constant river of activity.

Some flyers posted to a bulletin board on the wall caught his attention.  Amidst the red background and colorful flyers advertising everything from textbooks to tutoring to game nights to roommates in bright blue or green or orange paper, a simplistic white sheet stood out.  Spencer walked over to look at it and saw that it was a job offer.

It was an accounting firm, offering internships with minimum wage.  Filing and answering the phone and shit.  Spencer could do that, and it would be so much better than getting a job at some fast food place and being stuck on his feet all day.

Spencer was going for a business degree, technically, but he had no idea what he was actually going to do with himself after getting his associate’s in a year and a half.  So yeah, an internship.  Why the hell not?

He tore one of the tabs off and stuck it in his front pocket.  He’d go get a coffee and then call, ask them about an application or an interview.  Getting this kind of gig would be awesome.  Not only would he have some money and possibly some connections for work after college, but it was totally an adult thing to do.  If Spener did something like this, something this responsible, then maybe he could get a little more leeway.  He could prove himself.  Sure, Spencer knew that things were fucking weird and that they had to be careful.  He knew better than anyone else.  He was the one with the out of control wolf bursting out of him.  Even so, he was sick of being cooped up all the time.  He wanted to be trusted a little, damn it.  Maybe this would help.

 

…

It didn’t help.

That week was kind of a magical week, when it came down to it, if Spencer believed in magic beyond Pete Wentz fairy nonsense.  Which he didn’t.  But even so, it was kind of special.  He called the firm between his classes on Thursday and set up an interview for nine a.m. the following day.  At the time, Spencer hadn’t been sure how well the interview had gone, since he’d never applied for a job before and had no prior experience to compare this too.  They’d told him that they would consider it and get back to him.  He wasn’t expecting them to call him so soon, but his phone was ringing by four o’ clock, and he had a job for Monday after his classes got out.

That in itself was pretty cool, but then it got better.

The room his English 102 class took place in was filled with tables, each housing two people.  Spencer had sat in the front on the first day, and some bonehead arrived late and sat next to him, seeing as not many other people wanted to sit in the front row in community college, and it had been the only seat still available.

Spencer wasn’t exactly thrilled to be sitting next to this kid, but it came through, because only three weeks from the start of classes, the guy turned to Spencer and said, “Hey, you know chicks?”

The answer to that question, when one guy asks another, is always ‘yes.’  Spencer couldn’t say ‘no’ and look like a total loser or some kind of queer.  He wasn’t sure why the guy was asking, but he said yes anyways.

“Bro, so there’s this party tomorrow night.  Alpha Sig from the private school.  You should come along, bring girls with you.”

Spencer liked to think of himself as a levelheaded guy, but everyone had their weaknesses.  He was only human (well, sort of…).  It wasn’t that he had any great desire to join a fraternity.  It wasn’t a thing for him.  The thing was, he’d been a loser in high school.  He wasn’t picked on or anything, just ignored.  His lunch table was empty, and he was always that weird, chubby kid who quit marching band junior year and isolated himself from the only clique he’d ever been a part of.  When senior year came along, the year where it seemed like everyone had parties every single weekend, he was conveniently not invited to anything.  He would hear about the huge get togethers the following Monday in his homeroom class.  Who’d gotten with who, who threw up, who blacked out, whose parents called the cops.   And sure, he’d been a little preoccupied with things like turning into a werewolf and probably wouldn’t have been able to go had he been invited, but he still felt like he’d missed out on something.

So this… this invitation to a party (and not a stupid high school party, but an honest-to-God frat party) was kind of a big deal.  The only “party” (if you could even call it that) he’d been to since the start of college was a dozen people playing Dance Dance Revolution in Yearly’s living room while his parents were on a ski trip.  This wasn’t Dance Dance Revolution.  This was a legit party.  A frat party.  He’d be damned if he missed it.  People like Spencer didn’t get a second chance at this kind of thing.

…

“No.”

“Zack, come on.  I have to go to this!”

“Not going to this thing will not kill you.”

“This isn’t fair!  Why does Brendon get to go out?”  They’d been having this argument off and on all day, and Spencer was losing.  He followed Zack into his room while he got ready to go work at the club that night.  He was running out of time.

“I am not having that conversation again.  What did I say last time?”

Spencer scowled and crossed his arms, trying to think of a better argument before forging on.  One came to him rather quickly.

“I’m more responsible than he is,” he reasoned.  “I’m an adult.”

Zack looked rather amused at that, raising an eyebrow but not saying anything, and Spencer resented the expression.  

“I am!” he insisted.  “I’m eighteen years old.  I have a job now!”

“Uh huh, that’s nice.”  Zack wasn’t even pretending to listen.  Spencer followed him into the bathroom and slipped around between him and the sink, trying to get in the way and make a big enough obstacle so that Zack couldn’t shave or finish getting ready and would have to listen.

“I’m responsible enough to handle this.  Let me prove it to you,” he tried, holding his ground when Zack tried to brush him out of the way.  “Please.”

They made eye contact for a solid ten seconds, and Spencer was almost certain that Zack was finally going to crack and say yes.  Unfortunately…

 

“No.”

“Why?” Spencer snapped.  It came out way louder than he expected it to.  “This is so fucking unfair!”

“Very mature, throwing a tantrum,” Zack commented.  Spencer had a thing or two to say about that, but he didn’t get the chance to.  Not when Zack grabbed him by both the ear and the back of the neck and removed him bodily from the bathroom.  It had been a while since Spencer felt as childish as he did in that moment, when the door slammed in his face and he had to clench his hands to keep himself from lashing out.

His heart was hammering from how absolutely pissed he was, but he wasn’t shifting.  Not at all.  His eyes, his ears, his hands, his teeth all remained human.  That was something at least.  That was another point he could make, that he was fine, and he was getting better.  He could control himself more, and he’d only woken up as a wolf twice that week.  He couldn’t believe that Zack still didn’t trust him.  It was fucking ridiculous.

“That’s tough, man.”  William was standing in the hallway, blue lips curled around the straw to a slushy that had discolored his entire mouth.

“Shut up,” Spencer snapped at him, and now it took a bit of focus to keep his canines from expanding in his mouth.  But they didn’t.  He was still in control.  He was fine.  Brendon came walking past them and went into his room, and he had been holding a slushy as well.

“Where’d you get those?” he asked.

“Gas station,” William said.  That was just great.  It was so fucking hilarious that Brendon, who Spencer was pretty convinced was a walking personal hazard at this point, and William, the kid who had just been picked up from jail, were allowed out and Spencer wasn’t.  Fucking hilarious.

Spencer rolled his eyes and pushed past William to enter the living room.  

“Yo,” Jon waved his hand from where he was seated on the couch, on top of a sheet that had been laid out to make a bed for the stray kid.  There was a blanket shoved against one arm and a pillow shoved against the other, shoes sticking half out from under the couch, and an exploding back pack on the floor next to the coffee table, which was littered with soda cans and, strangely enough, a bible.  They obviously had a freak living in their apartment.  He’d refused multiple times when Zack mentioned getting him a real bed so he didn’t have to sleep on the couch.  Spencer was just waiting for him to vanish again, really.  “Spence, you wanna play Halo?”

Spencer wanted to go out, and he also wanted to clean up the living room before the clutter made his head explode.  He settled for the latter, turning down Jon’s offer in exchange for clearing the coffee table clutter into a trash bag.

“What’s with this?” Spencer asked, picking the bible up and holding it up for Jon to see.  Jon just shrugged.

A voice burst out of the hallway.  “Don’t touch that!” William snapped, rushing over and snatching it out of Spencer’s hands as if it were an infant that Spencer had been dangling upside down or something. “Don’t touch that.  It’s mine.”

“Okay, okay, chill,” Spencer rolled his eyes and collapsed onto the couch next to Jon, who seemed unphased.  William glared them down for a good thirty seconds before settling onto the other couch, curled up with the bible in his lap.  What a freak.

“Alright, I’m leaving,” Zack said, sweeping through the living room in a tidal wave of motion which meant he was late.  “I shouldn’t have to say this, but Jon, you’re in charge.  Brendon in bed by midnight.  No caffeine.  Thank you to whoever cleaned up in the living room.  And Jon, Spencer isn’t allowed out tonight.”

Jon nodded, and Spencer let himself growl.  Zack pointed a finger at him and said, “Watch yourself, pup,” before grabbing car keys and disappearing behind the closed door of the apartment.  Spencer growled again after he was gone.

“I’m tired,” William said.  “And you’re on my bed.”

“You can sleep in my bed,” Jon offered.  “Or Spencer’s.  Or Brendon’s, probably.”

“I like the couch, thanks.”

“It pulls out into a bed, y’know.”

“No thank you,” the kid said solidly.  He was glaring at them again.  Spencer rolled his eyes, but Jon just grinned and nodded, standing up.

“Whatever you say, dude.”  He went over to the TV and shut the whole thing down.  “I’m heading to my room.  Need anything?”

“No,” the kid said.  “Thank you.”

“Sure,” Jon smiled at him again, but William didn’t looked pleased until Spencer got up and followed him out of the room, leaving the couch and the living room empty.

“What a fucking weird kid,” Spencer griped once their bedroom door was closed.  Jon turned and smacked him on the shoulder.

“He can still hear us, asshole,” he said.  

“I don’t care.”

Jon sighed and scrubbed his hand through his hair.  “What is up with you, man?”

“Zack’s an over controlling fascist and I hate everything,” Spencer said, which wasn’t an overreaction at all.  Not in the slightest.  Jon didn’t look impressed.

“Uh huh….”

“I’ve been doing better,” he went on to explain.  Zack wouldn’t listen to him, but he knew Jon would.  “I have, haven’t I?”

“Well, you didn’t try to eat me this week.  So that’s a plus,” Jon said.

“Exactly.  I’m doing better, and I have total control over myself when I’m conscious now.  But he still won’t let me leave.  And dude, I got invited to a party tonight.  This is like a once in a lifetime thing for me, some kind of frat party-”

Spencer paused, noticing something glint through Jon’s eyes.  Something young and mischievous.  “A frat party?”

Finally, someone who got it.  “Right?  Kind of a big deal.  But he won’t let me go.  I tried convincing him all day,” Spencer complained.

Jon sat down on the edge of his bed and looked thoughtful.  Spencer straightened his own blankets out and made his bed look nice while Jon was silent.  

After a while, Jon said, “You know…. Zack is gonna be at work until, like, one a.m….”

Spencer raised an eyebrow at him.  “What are you getting at?” He knew what Jon was getting at, but he wanted to hear him say it.

Jon leaned his elbows on his knees and smirked at Spencer.  “You could probably get away with it, if you really wanted to.  You could sneak out when I’m not paying attention.”  He paused.  “Or you could take me with you.”

“You want to go to a frat party?” Spencer asked, kind of surprised.  “Really?”

Jon laughed.  “Uhm, yeah!  I didn’t go to college, dude.  There are things I’ve missed.  Let me live through you.”

Spencer smiled and shook his head.  “Besides, you need someone to look after you.  Make sure you don’t wolf out and eat an honor’s student.”

“You’re ridiculous.”  Jon just beamed.  

“Alright,” Spencer said after a moment.  “Alright, fine.  We wait for William and Brendon to pass out and then we’re out of here.”

Jon lounged back on his bed and folded his arms behind his neck.  “I knew I kept you around for a reason.”  Spencer rolled his eyes again.

**  
**

….

Jon was significantly drunker than he had been in a while, but not the drunkest he had ever been.  He was past the point he’d been with Spencer about four months ago when they’d finished a bottle of whiskey and made out on Spencer’s birthday.  That had been awesome.  Jon wanted to do that again.  Jon wanted to do a lot of things, but that would mean standing up, and the bean bag chair he was in was too damn comfy.  There was no way he could haul himself off the ground like this.

He didn’t know where he was, which was probably bad.  He didn’t know where Spencer was either, which was worse.  But the cup in his hand kept refilling almost magically, so Jon just kept drinking.  It was the only real solution here.

There were some drunk girls singing along to a Katy Perry song on the stereo.  Jon found himself grinning for no reason.  He remembered some girl wrapping her arms around him earlier that evening and didn’t remember how that had ended.  That poor girl.  Jon didn’t want a girl.  He wanted a guy.  He wanted Spencer, actually, but Spencer was missing.  Jon frowned into his drink.

Eventually-- Jon wasn’t sure if time was passing too fast or too slow-- Spencer appeared, and he was even drunker than Jon was.  The puppy was such a light weight.  Jon must have said that outloud, because Spencer flipped him off.  He was swaying on his feet, and he looked about to fall over before he collapsed half onto a nearby bean bag chair and half onto the floor.  Jon burst out laughing, and it sounded too loud in his ears but he couldn’t control himself.  Spencer laughed too.  He had such a great laugh.

“You have such a great laugh,” Jon told him, leaning over and tugging on the only thing within reach, which happened to be Spencer’s hair.  Spencer laughed more and fell over, going with the touch.  Jon petted him, and Spencer just smiled.

“You’re so drunk,” he told Spencer.  His words felt heavy and tripped over themselves as they fell out of his mouth.

Spencer tried to scoff, but it came out more like a spit.  “You’re drunk.”  

“I’m fucking wasted.”  That was pretty funny.  Jon should be a comedian.  He should write a book, like a memoir, and it would be hilarious and he’d sell a bunch and not have to work at Starbucks anymore.

“I’m gonna write a book,” he told Spencer, who wasn’t even paying attention.  He had his eyes closed.  Jon poked him in the ear.  “Hey.  Heyyyy.  I’m gonna write a book.”

“No you’re not,” Spencer opened his eyes and smirked at him.  He was slurring so bad.

“If you’re not nice to me, I’ll leave you out of it,” Jon threatened.  Spencer seemed unconcerned.  He rolled over and decided to use Jon, who’d slid almost entirely out of his bean bag chair by this point and was sitting on the ground, as a pillow.  His head was entirely in Jon’s lap, and no amount of thinking unsexy thoughts was going to make the party in his pants calm down.  Spencer was laughing again.  That wasn’t helping.

“Spin, puppy, you’re drunk,” Jon told him, running his fingers through Spencer’s hair.  It was so soft.  Spencer was still laughing.  Something about being around Spencer, who was at a whole different level of drunk than Jon himself was, was helping Jon feel more sober.  He kept petting Spencer and put his drink down, just out of reach so he wouldn’t be tempted.  It was warm anyways, and the alcohol was making his stomach turn.

“I love you,” he told Spencer.  He wasn’t sure why he said it.  It just kind of came out.  Spencer wasn’t even listening, though.  He was practically asleep, hot breath damp through Jon’s jeans.  He hummed quietly in recognition, and Jon found himself smiling again.  He could have stayed like that forever, totally at peace.

The music went silent that instant.  “The cops are here!” someone shouted.  Jon didn’t know where the voice was coming from.  “Last time they checked ID’s!  If you’re underage, get the fuck out!”

Oh fuck.  That woke Jon up fast.  He was half a year shy of twenty-one, and Spencer hadn’t even been eighteen for six months yet.  

“Spence,” Jon said, nudging the younger wolf and then dumping him on the floor when he didn’t respond.  “Spencer, get up.  Come on, we have to go.”

Jon got to his feet, a little bit shaky, and attempted to haul Spencer up by his hands.  “Spencer, come on, get up.”

“Don’t want to,” Spencer complained, not helping at all.  Jon got behind him instead and hooked his arms through Spencer’s arm pits.  He dragged him up and gave him an encouraging shove towards the hall, which Jon was pretty sure lead to a back door.

“We have to go, right now.” A crucial part of their plan here was Zack not finding out what they had been up to.  Jon figured that getting as drunk as they had wasn’t helping that very much, but it was too late to do anything about that now.  It would only get worse if the cops caught them and Zack had to pick them up from jail.  Oh God, he’d be so pissed.  He was already in a mood because Jenny had just left.  Jon didn’t want to test that.

“Go.” He shoved Spencer out the back door and down the stacked cinder blocks that served as two steps.  At the bottom, he had to catch Spencer with an arm around the younger’s waist to keep him from falling face first in the snow.  The puppy managed to stay on his feet, just barely, and Jon started dragging him through the back yard towards the woods.  Woods, yes.  That was good.  He’d get them to the woods to hide and then sneak them home.  Police lights painted the ground blue and red around them, so Jon gripped Spencer’s arm tight and ran.

Spencer stumbled behind him.  They made it to the woods and about fifty feet in before Jon said fuck it, turned around, and threw Spencer over his shoulder.  God, Spencer was heavier than he used to be.  This would have been so much easier if he was still the five-and-a-half foot puppy Jon had met last year.  Carrying him had been a piece of cake.  Fair enough, it would have also been an easier task if Jon wasn’t fucking smashed and the ground wasn’t swaying underneath him.  The adrenaline had sobered him up decently, but not nearly enough.  

Still, it was enough to get them home.  Spencer was back on his feet by the time they’d stumbled out of the woods and hit an actual sidewalk, which was blessedly flat and had lines to help them walk a straight line.  Spencer was fucking gone, so Jon kept a hand tangled in the back of his hoodie and walked the kid all the way home.  Thankfully it wasn’t too far.  Their apartment was on the edge of town.

William was asleep when they got there, but they made a bit of noise, and the kid woke up to squint at them.  Jon held a finger to his lips with the hand that wasn’t keeping Spencer upright, and William just shrugged before flopping back down on the couch and covering his head with a pillow.  The clock in the kitchen said it was 12:45 a.m., so they had literally no time before Zack came home.  He hauled Spencer to their room and tried to get them both to bed before he heard the click of the front door.

They ended up both falling into Jon’s bed because it was just easier that way.  Spencer was a touchy drunk, and every time Jon lost physical contact with him, Spencer would whine and grab a hold of him again.  The only way to get him to actually sleep and shut the fuck up was if they were in the same bed, and hey.  Jon wasn’t complaining.  Even if Spencer was acting like a toddler.  It was kind of cute.  Whatever.  Jon was drunk.

Realistically, there was no way they were going to get away with this.  They both reeked of booze.  Zack would know the minute he caught their scent, and then they were in for it.  Jon figured that could wait for the morning, though.  He spooned up behind Spencer and nuzzled against the boy’s shoulder, because Spencer was warm and his hoodie was soft and he wasn’t pushing Jon away when he was like this.  Jon heard the front door click open and William’s voice say, “Hi Zack,” and then he was out like a light.

…

Light.  That was the first thought that came to mind. Light light light, so much fucking light.  It was so bright.  Jon’s head was pounding.  Oh God, he was dying.  Why was it so bright in his room?  Oh fuck.

It was too bright and he was too hot, sweaty all over.  He had to be in hell.  That was the only explanation.  Blinking his eyes open revealed Spencer, who was groaning and covering his eyes with his arm.  Zack was standing in their room at the window, one hand on the curtains, pulling them back.  

“It’s nine a.m. and you’re both going to be late for work.  Wake the fuck up,” Zack said.

“I’m not going,” Jon said automatically, because oh fuck he was dying.  This was the hangover from hell.  Just the thought of going to work and having to smell all of that coffee made his stomach churn.  He groaned.

“Like hell you’re not,” Zack responded.  He sounded pissed.  Jon knew he would be.  “What did I tell you last night?  That Spencer was not allowed out.  And what do you do?  You fucking go out with him.  And you get drunk. I cannot believe you would do something that irresponsible.  You know how dangerous that is.  How did you even get home last night?”

“Walked,” Jon couldn’t take the amount of light in the room.  He sat up and dropped his head into his hands, pushing his palms into his eyes to make everything blessedly dark.

“You walked.  Through the woods, I’m guessing.  When there could be hunters all over the place.  God knows you couldn’t defend yourself sober, let alone intoxicated.  What the hell is the matter with you?”  Zack’s voice was way too loud.  Everything was just way too… too much.  Jon was going to die.

“I’m sorry.”  That was the best way to go about this.

“Oh, not yet you aren’t.  We’ll see how sorry you are when you get home from work this evening.  I’m driving you, by the way, since you obviously can’t be trusted to do what I tell you,” Zack snapped.  Ouch, that was harsh.

“Zack….”

“I don’t even want to hear it.  You’d better be up and dressed in the next five minutes, or I swear to God I’ll bring in an air horn.”

“We’re not going to work,” Spencer piped from under the pillow that was covering his face.  “Fuck that.”

“You’re going to work, Spencer James Smith, if I have to drag you there by your neck,” Zack threatened.  “And Jonathan, you’d better just hope I don’t call your mother.”  Jon’s head snapped up to look at him, mouth falling open, and he saw that Zack was entirely serious.  Oh fuck.  Oh fuck that would be so bad.

  
“Five minutes,” Zack said again.  “And I am very disappointed in you.”  He closed the door after leaving the room, and that was when Jon’s stomach gave up on him.  He rolled out of bed and threw up in the trashcan by his desk.  Spencer made some kind of pathetic noise from the bed behind him, and Jon had to agree.  He threw up again.

 

  
  
**Chapter 11**   
  
  


“Zack!”

 

“Hi Zack.”

 

“Zack, this is very important!”

 

Through the computer, Zack could see Jenny laughing and shaking her head, her hand covering her mouth and her eyes squinting up.  He smiled at her, lost for a moment, before-

 

“Zack!”

 

“Did you have coffee?” he asked, frowning into the tiny square at the bottom of the desktop that showed his own face as well as Brendon draped over his shoulder.  He reached up and flicked the boy in the middle of the forehead, but Brendon was unphased.

 

“Shane wanted to go to Starbucks,” Brendon said, which wasn’t a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ directly but was probably a yes, judging by the way Brendon was practically vibrating.    
  
“Who the hell is Shane?” he asked.  Jenny was still laughing all the way across the country.  Zack shot her a humored smile.

 

“Brendon’s boyfriend.”  It wasn’t until then that Zack realized Sarah was in the room.  Even though he’d heard her come in, it hadn’t registered that she was actually there.  He’d been a bit distracted.  

 

“Wait,” he shook Brendon off, and the kid fell to the floor laughing.  “Brendon, you have a boyfriend?”

 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Brendon shot a look at Sarah, who made a face back at him.

 

“Yes he is.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

Zack sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger while Jenny smiled up at him from the computer screen.  He smiled back.

 

“Didn’t you say something was very important?” he asked, trying to stay on topic because heaven knew the kids wouldn’t.

 

“Oh right!” Brendon jumped up to his feet.  Zack watched out of the corner of his eye as Sarah crossed the room and started digging around in their fridge.  “We want to have a sleepover.”

 

Zack frowned.  Jenny was laughing again.  “Sleepover?”

 

“Sleepover.  Can Sarah spend the night?  It’s not a school night and I’ll do all my homework tomorrow and her dad already said yes and you’ll be able to hear what we’re doing the whole time so you know we won’t be doing anything bad-”

 

“Breathe, Bren.”

 

Brendon took a large gulp of air before continuing.  “Pleeeeeeease?”

 

“What would you guys even do at this sleepover?” he asked.  

 

“Talk about boys,” Brendon answered, and Sarah said, “Watch wrestling.”  Zack sighed and shook his head.  It seemed innocent enough, sure, but there were too many risks involved.  Brendon had been known, on several occasions, to shift over in his sleep.  Spencer did the same thing, and his shifting came with substantially larger risk that he might also attack someone.  Jon seemed normal enough in public, sure, but in the comfort of his own home there were some obvious ticks that came about from being raised in a pack his entire life.  And William… Ryan… whatever the kid’s name was… Who even knew what weird wolf habits that kid had brought with him.  What if they were being too obnoxious and Zack growled at them in a warning, instead of speaking?  What if, God forbid, someone startled Spencer and he shifted?  What if Pete decided to pop in unannounced?

 

Wolves were coming out in certain places, but not in Colorado.  Not in their apartment.  Not to fourteen year old mortal girls who probably wouldn’t know how to handle it.

 

“Can’t you do this at Sarah’s house?” Zack asked.

 

“My dad doesn’t let people stay the night in our house,” Sarah shrugged.  She was eating a sandwich made up of ingredients from their fridge.  Zack was probably just going to have to get used to it.

 

He sighed.  “I’m sorry guys, it’s just not going to work.”

 

“What?” Brendon yelped.  “Why?  Zack, come on, that’s not fair.”

 

He would explain to Brendon later why this wouldn’t work, sometime when there wasn’t a human child in his apartment.  For now he would have to stick to, “Because I said so,” and watch Brendon huff and cross his arms over his chest.  

 

“Fine,” Brendon sighed.  He shuffled across the room to the couch, where he turned on the xbox and set up a guitar hero controller.  Zack knew him well enough to know he was going to turn on ‘Carry on my Wayward Son’ and play it on repeat until Zack’s ears started bleeding.

 

Sarah finished her sandwich and went over to the couch, where she threw herself on top of Brendon and wrestled with him until he had no choice but to hand over the controller.  All of this was visible to Jen through the web cam.

 

“They are so adorable,” she said, laughing quietly.  “I can’t wait to have children one day.”

 

Children.  Huh.  That conversation was uncharted territory for them, and Zack wanted to talk more about it, but just as he was opening his mouth, the front door crashed open and let in a hurricane that was Spencer and Jon arguing about… something.  William followed close at their heels and sprawled out on the floor, where he took to drumming his feet along to the game.  

 

“I guess quiet hour is over, huh?” Jenny asked, still smiling so Zack knew she wasn’t upset.  Zack smiled back wearily.

 

“Guess so,” he said.  “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

 

“Of course.”

 

They said their ‘I love you’s and hung up the conversation.  Zack would be lying if he said there wasn’t something happy tumbling around in his chest.  That happy tumbling thing was dissipated by Jon crooning ‘awwww’ and trying to ruffle Zack’s hair, which was currently too short to even attempt ruffling.  He swatted Jon’s hand away.  

 

“Knock it off.  What’s up with selling Bren coffee?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.  Jon gave him a shrug and a guilty smile.

 

“What can I say, man?  He begged me,” Jon answered.  “Don’t worry, he’ll crash by eight.”

 

He was actually out by seven.  Once dinner was over and Sarah was on her way home, the boys all sprawled out in the living room to watch some super lame horror movie.  Jon, Spencer, and Brendon squeezed onto the couch while William isolated himself on the arm chair.  Almost immediately Brendon was passed the fuck out and mumbling in his sleep.  Jon and Spencer were practically in each other’s laps, and Spencer took full advantage of this by jumping and hiding against Jon’s shoulder every few minutes.  William, on the other hand, looked bored.

 

“C’mon, pup,” Zack went over and nudged Brendon.  He had to leave for work in a few minutes, but the least he could do was get the kid tucked in.  The others would probably just leave him there. “Bedtime.”

 

Brendon yawned and let Zack nudge him in the direction of his bedroom.  “Brush your teeth,” he reminded, unsure of whether Brendon was awake enough to listen or not.  He shrugged and ruffled William’s hair on the way out the door to work.  William flinched back at the contact, but he also might have smiled a little.  Zack called Jenny on his drive to work to say good night.

 

…

 

 

When Spencer came home from work that afternoon he smelled like ink and disinfectant and unfamiliar people.  It made Jon’s nose wrinkle up.  It was too foreign, didn’t smell like Spencer.  

 

“Hey puppy.”  Spencer gave him a nod of recognition as he wandered into the room and collapsed face first on his bed.  Jon spared a glance up at him from the pages of his book but then flicked his eyes back down.  He wasn’t in the reading zone he’d been in a moment prior, but there was a chance to save it still.

 

“I’m so fucking bored,” Spencer complained.  Jon nodded.  He was trying to fight off the ‘being bored’ thing, and he seemed to be doing a better job at it than Spencer was.  Of course, Jon had experience with Zack and his moods and was better at keeping them from affecting him too much.  He and his brothers and pack-brothers had practice at just rolling with this treatment from his mom and dad and Zack.  Spencer still didn’t.

 

Then again, Zack hadn’t been this upset with them before.  Even with all the crap they got up to through the past year, this was the first time they’d managed to push Zack this far.  Spencer wasn’t helping it any by pushing buttons, but he didn’t know better.  Jon was normally a button pusher too (a legendary one, at that.  he had war flashbacks from some of the consequences), but that was for the normal irritated or pissed off scents swirling around the pack alpha.  This was a special, disappointed, ‘you done fucked up’ scent in Jon’s nose that he was not fond of and tried to avoid.

 

That’s why he wasn’t pushing buttons.  For one, Zack had threatened to call his mom.  He was getting enough of the stern parental disapproval act from Zack.  He didn’t need to hear his mom’s version of it as well.  He was twenty, not twelve, but she had trouble remembering that sometimes.  Besides, he knew he deserved this.  Werewolves had traditions and packs had rules and you just didn’t disobey a direct order from your alpha without consequences.  This applied to all packs, from Jon’s, which was a messy kind of family of mutts and dudes and teenagers to the super orthodox packs (there was some crazy hierarchy bullshit up in Maine that you didn’t even want to mess with).

 

“I’m so sick of this,” Spencer complained, breaking Jon out of his train of thought.  He gave up on his book and dog eared page seventy-four for later.  He’d already read the book five times anyways.  “When is he going to get off of our backs?”

 

“We deserve it,” Jon answered.  He was still wearing the pajama pants he’d slept in and a hoodie of Spencer’s that was a few days past due for the washing machine.  He needed to change, but he had the day off work and was living life to the fullest, even if that meant being gross and staying in one spot for eight hours.

 

“It’s bullshit,” Spencer got up off of his own bed and sprawled out on Jon’s next to his.  Jon gave up and ran his fingers through the puppy’s hair.

 

No amount of arguing was going to change Spencer’s mind, just like no amount of apologizing was going to break Zack out of his mood.  He had reasons to be moody though, with all that was going on and Jenny moving back to Pennsylvania and stuff.  It was rough.  He deserved some time to be mad. Instead of trying to talk to Spencer, the adolescent grump fest, he turned his attention to William as he passed their open bedroom door.

 

“Hey William!” he called out.  William paused and turned.  He frowned, furrowing his eyebrows, and shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets.

 

“Don’t call me that,” he said, catching Jon off guard.  “That’s not my name.”

 

“It’s not?” Jon asked.  That’s how Zack had introduced him (quietly when William (?) was in the shower, because they’d already met him a bunch of times but had never actually gotten a name out of him before, and it would have been weird to formally introduce him at that level of familiarity).

 

“Well, it is.”  The kid’s jaw clenched like he was ready to fight somebody.  “But I don’t go by that.  My dad was William.  I’m Ryan.”

 

He felt Spencer stiffen next to him and then sit up.  

 

“What?” Spencer asked, almost snapping.  Jon watched curiously.

 

“It’s Ryan,” Ryan repeated, an upturned lip asking ‘are you dumb or something?’

 

Spencer rose an eyebrow in counterattack.  “I’m not calling you that.”

 

Jon puzzled over why while the two of them argued.  He knew Spencer had a friend before named… man, was that kid’s name Ryan too?  But he didn’t see the connection.  Was Spencer still that beat up over losing his friend that he wouldn’t even refer to a different person by the same name?  Then again, Spencer’s friend had just up and disappeared out of nowhere.  He hadn’t even said goodbye.  Spencer had spent a few days wandering about trying to catch a scent but hadn’t been able to.  Jon figured he would be pretty upset considering the circumstances.  He remembered the look on his mother’s face every time one of her pack kids disappeared into the wind: her ‘i could have saved them’ face.

 

“Well that’s not your real name, so I’m not fucking caling you that,” Spencer snapped in the present time.  Jon had to shake himself out of his head, seriously.  Or start getting more sleep.

 

“Fine!” Ryan still hadn’t set foot into their room and threw his arms up where he was arguing from the doorway.  “Call me Ryan!  Call me Will!  I don’t fucking care!  But call me William and I will knock you out.”

 

Before Spencer could say anything stupid (and he was opening his mouth to), Jon slapped his palm over Spencer’s mouth and held him tight in a headlock.  

 

“We got it, Ryan,” Jon said as diplomatically as possible, giving Ryan a calm smile and squeezing Spencer’s stupid head a bit, trying to get the message across.  He didn’t let go until Ryan walked away and the front door of the apartment closed after him.

 

“I’m not calling him that,” Spencer grumbled.  Jon nodded and pulled him back down so he could reopen his book and run his fingers through Spencer’s hair, trying to emit calming vibes the way his father had taught him to.

 

“Bad day?” he asked.

 

Spencer sighed and finally relaxed a bit.  “You have no idea.”

 

…

 

A bad day after a string of good ones caught Brendon totally off guard.  He’d been doing so well, feeling at the top of the world again.  He hadn’t been sleeping much, but he wasn’t even tired.  He could totally get used to that.  

 

All good things come to an end, though.  Such was life.  He didn’t necessarily feel bad when he woke up that morning, but he did feel exhausted, as if his recent inability to sleep had finally caught up to him.  Things got progressively worse throughout the day.  He found himself quickly irritated.  He wanted to snap at people in the halls and shove them out of the way.  He got caught rolling his eyes hard at his first hour math teacher and had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming when he got yelled at in front of the class.  In the gym class locker room (some work of satan had gotten him enrolled in PE for his second semester.  another work of satan had the class scheduled in the morning, when it was far too early to run laps or be tormented), when someone laughed and threw his gym shirt in the running showers, Brendon honest-to-God almost punched them.  He didn’t, though.  He just wore the sopping wet t-shirt through class and took the demerit for a uniform violation.  

 

It went downhill from there, honestly.  He was pissed off and exhausted and fidgety, and he found it impossible to pay attention in any of his classes.  All of his teachers had words with him by the end of the day, and it was only by some miracle that he didn’t get himself sentenced to detention.

 

Even through this awful day with his awful cloud hanging over his head, things got slightly brighter when he exited his last hour class and saw Shane leaning against his locker.   He smiled wide, because he knew it.  He knew Shane was into him, even if he didn’t act like it unless they were totally alone.  He was into Brendon.  He had to be.  They’d made out, like, half a dozen times and had jerked each other off for most of those.  He’d told Brendon things, like how he didn’t know if he wanted to go to college or how he didn’t know how to explain that to his family or how he was worried about setting a good example for his younger brother.  You only told stuff like that to people you cared about.  Brendon cared about Shane too, of course he did.  Shane was perfect and gorgeous and awesome and interested in him.  He was still working up to telling Shane the big stuff, though.  He’d vaguely mentioned his own dad when Shane talked about disappointing his parents, but for the most part, he just wasn’t ready yet.

 

He was ready for one thing, though.  It was time, Brendon decided, to have an actual date.  They’d been doing this for so long.  It was time to stop making out in strange places and actually go out.  Brendon was thinking a movie, since that was discreet and dark and wouldn’t leave much space for awkward conversation.  They could go see some dude bro action movie, and nobody would even think that they were on a date.  It wouldn’t matter where they sat, for the most part, since it would be too dark and everyone would be too focused on the movie to notice if they’re holding hands.  It would be perfect, and here Shane was, leaning against Brendon’s locker and just waiting to be asked out.  Brendon was kind of excited about it.

 

“Hey!” he said, putting on his best grin and going up to the older boy.  “What are you doing here?”

 

Shane shrugged.  “Need a ride home?  Maybe we could hang at your place for a little while.”  The statement came with a wink, so there was barely any confusion as to what Shane meant by ‘hang.’  Brendon wanted to.  Oh how he wanted to.  In a perfect world, Brendon would be able to kiss Shane at his locker and then go back to his bedroom and do whatever Shane wanted to do without weird bursts of anxiety getting in the way.  This wasn’t a perfect world, though, and there were far too many guys with far too good of hearing for Brendon to get away with anything like that.  Besides, it would probably be Jon and Spencer’s personal mission to humiliate Brendon in front of his boyfriend (the word was so excited to say, even in his head), and Brendon wasn’t sure he could handle that after how bad the day had already been.

 

“Oh uhm…” he said awkwardly.  “I… the apartment is really small.  We wouldn’t be able to, uhm… do anything….”

 

Shane looked bummed, but he didn’t push.  Brendon decided to change the subject and try to get him smiling again.  He had a handsome smile.

 

“But hey!  I was wondering…  Would you like to go to the movies with me?  On a date?”  It was safe to ask outright because the hallway was empty, but Shane still looked mortified.  Brendon could smell the spike of panic fueled adrenaline that pulsed through Shane’s blood as he glanced both ways down the hallway.

 

After apparently deciding it was safe to continue, Shane looked back to Brendon.  “A date?”

 

“To the movies,” Brendon added hopefully.  “There’s a new Spider Man out probably.”

 

Shane’s mouth pulled into a pursed frown as he thought, and Brendon could feel his hopes falling.  Crashing.  Burning.  No of course.  Shane didn’t want to go on a movie date.  How lame.  And with Brendon of all people.  Brendon was lucky that Shane even talked to him.  He shouldn’t push it, or else Shane was going to break up with him, and that would just be horrible.  

 

Brendon’s throat felt tight.

 

“I’m not sure that would work…” Shane said slowly.  “But my older brother is going out of town this weekend.  He has an apartment near the edge of town.  He’d probably let us borrow it, and we could watch movies there, if you want.”

 

Brendon’s frown evaporated.  “Seriously?” he asked.

 

Shane smiled back, a cat like grin that Brendon loved.  “Seriously.  I’ll pick the movie out, okay?”

 

“Okay!” That took a lot of pressure off, since Brendon didn’t have to worry about whether the movies he might pick were too lame or too awful or too nerdy.  He wasn’t the epitome of cool, and neither were Jon or Spencer or Zack, despite what they might have thought about the matter.

 

“Let me drive you home now?” Shane asked.  Brendon knew that a ride home entailed taking the scenic route, pulling over in the small, nearly empty employee parking lot behind IHOP and making out for half an hour.  He was, surprisingly, not up for that today.  

 

“Nah, I’m supposed to pick something up for Zack on my walk home,” he lied.  “But thanks.”

 

For a moment it looked like Shane was going to lean in and kiss him, but then his eyes flitted about nervously, as if he was remembering where they were, and he patted Brendon’s shoulder instead.  

 

“See ya later, Brendon,” he said. Brendon grinned at his receding back and waved.

 

…

 

He had to give Zack Shane’s full name and the address of where they were going to be hanging out before Zack would give him permission to go on the date.  Permission came along with a lecture about safety and looking out for hunters and being careful and if they started getting down and dirty (not Zack’s exact words) to keep an eye on his heart rate and make sure he didn’t shift over or do anything stupid and don’t get any stds and a lot of stuff that Brendon didn’t actually listen to.  For most of it he just nodded along and agreed in the appropriate spots and tried not to cringe when Zack gave him the sex talk.  He thought that was something that only happened to kids on TV.  His actual father would sooner pronounce himself an atheist than talk to anyone about sex.

 

It didn’t matter though.  In the end he got Zack’s approval and ran from the apartment as if his shoes were on fire, trying to escape before any lecturing started up or Spencer and Jon caught word of where he was going and started teasing him.  He made it out unscathed.

 

Brendon knew that this date wasn’t going to be exactly what he’d had mind when he’d originally proposed the idea, but that was okay.  The world was an imperfect place.  Maybe holding hands and eating microwave popcorn on Shane’s older brother’s apartment couch wasn’t as romantic as holding hands at the movies and eating movie theatre popcorn at the movies, but it was more romantic than anything else they’d done.  A movie date definitely made Brendon feel more like Shane’s boyfriend and less like the older boy’s sex buddy.

 

He caught the bus, riding it all the way to the street that Shane had written down on the back of an unsigned detention notice.  That was so badass.  Shane was kind of a bad boy, and Brendon was a little more than absolutely taken.  It was like Footloose, kind of.

 

Brendon got dropped off at the very last bus stop on the route, and it was in a side of the town that he’d heard of but never actually seen.  ‘Other side of the train tracks’ type thing.  It was a wonder Zack actually let him go after Brendon gave him the address.  The bus stop there was actually just a metal pole with a sign that used to say ‘bus stop’ under all the bullet holes from overenthusiastic rednecks.  Brendon hunkered down in his winter jacket and let his claws pull out of his fingers, just in case someone tried to jump him or whatever.

 

The apartment building was a tiny two level thing with stairs on the outside instead of the inside of the building.  It was filthy, and Brendon slipped on the ice going up the stairs and just about brained himself on the concrete.  Once he got his heart to stop hammering and caught his breath, he hauled himself up off his ass and carefully made his way up to Shane’s brother’s apartment, room 204.  Some of the numbers were missing from a bunch of the doors, but he found it through the process of elimination.  He wanted to hesitate a moment after he’d gotten there, but it was fucking cold outside and there were butterflies in his stomach, so he went ahead and knocked.  It broke through the numbness in his frozen hand and made his knuckles ache.

 

“Hey there.” Shane took Brendon’s hand and pulled him inside.  Once the door closed, Brendon found himself with his back against it and Shane against his front, kissing his way into Brendon’s mouth.  Brendon had no complaints about this.  After a while, the two separated and Shane headed towards the middle of the room where a couch sat in front of a small box TV.  

 

“It’s not much, but we couldn’t do this at my parent’s place,” Shane explained.  Brendon understood.  Shane wasn’t out yet.  They had to be careful.  “My brother went on some kind of camping trip with his friends for the weekend, so we have all night to ourselves.”

 

There was more kissing almost immediately after that.  Brendon didn’t even have his coat off yet, but they were both seated on the couch with Shane’s hands up Brendon’s shirt making him shiver and Brendon’s hands on Shane’s shoulders and their mouths moving together.  This definitely wasn’t the way Brendon had seen the movie date going, but that was okay.  At least it was a movie date.  He needed to be grateful.

 

They had to breathe eventually, and that was when Brendon asked, “What movie are we watching?”  He probably should have told Shane that his curfew was ten thirty tonight (dates with his ‘boyfriend’ raised more eyebrows than “hanging out with Sarah,” so it made sense.  ten thirty was totally enough time for a movie anyways, and the last bus would be hitting the stop at ten, so it worked out perfect).  He didn’t want to tell Shane yet though, cause Shane would probably be upset and roll his eyes and stuff, and Brendon wanted this night to be perfect.

 

“Burlesque,” Shane said with a smirk.  “Ever seen it?”

 

Brendon shook his head.  He’d never even heard of it.

 

“It’s this movie about a burlesque dancer, right?  Which are these chicks who dance in fancy lingerie.  Like high class strippers, y’know?  Totally sexy.”  That explained why Brendon had never seen it.  His parents never would have allowed something like that to be watched in their house, and Jon and Spencer and Zack didn’t watch anything like that.  He had some qualms about whether or not the movie would actually be sexy, considering he was, uhm, gay.  But Shane sounded excited, so he was willing to give it a try.

 

It had an okay storyline that Brendon could appreciate, and also Cher.  So that was awesome.  He was pretty interested in seeing what happened, but then Shane was running his hand up Brendon’s inner thigh and mumbling something against his neck, and everything went spiralling from there the way it always did.

 

Things developed as per usual, and they both ended up in their underwear.  Brendon super hoped that Shane’s brother didn’t get sick on his trip and decide to come home early, because there was no way to disguise what they were doing as anything but what it was: their clothes thrown everywhere, their hair a mess, their faces flushed and their lips swollen and a sizeable hickey on Brendon’s naked shoulder and the way their underwear was tenting out and… yeah.

 

He figured it was going to be the usual, which was making out and handjobs and orgasms for everyone.  It was a good system.  Brendon liked that system.  Shane diverged from the system when he pushed Brendon more heavily into the couch cushions and ducked his head down to kiss at Brendon’s chest.  That didn’t make sense, and it wasn’t particularly sexy, in Brendon’s opinion, but he didn’t say anything.  It all made sense again when Shane’s tongue rolled over his nipple and Brendon’s hips flew off the couch by their own accord.  Shane moaned and shoved his hips down again, his kisses finding their way down Brendon’s chest and stomach.  Brendon didn’t even notice, thoroughly distracted as he was, until Shane’s fingers tapped at the waistband of his boxer briefs.

 

“I’m gonna blow you,” he said, causing Brendon’s blood to freeze in his veins, “And then you’re going to blow me.”

 

“Wait,” he said, trying to sit up.  Shane’s hands were too heavy on Brendon’s hips.

 

“It’s okay,” Shane said.  His fingers were slipping under the elastic and just barely pulling his underwear down his hips.  Brendon was going to throw up on him.

 

“No, Shane, stop,” he tried again.

 

“Just trust me, man.”  Shane wasn’t listening to him.  He wasn’t listening.  He also wasn’t pulling Brendon’s underwear down any farther, but he was too close.  How could Brendon still be hard when his hands were shaking?  He was scared.  He didn’t know what he was scared of.  His lungs felt too tight.  He couldn’t do this.  He couldn’t breathe.  He felt pressure and saw that it was Shane, mouthing at Brendon’s cock through his underwear, and that was when he lost it.

 

“Stop!” Brendon jerked back violently, accidentally kneeing Shane in the face and sending them both crashing to the floor.  Brendon’s head knocked into the coffee table leg and jostled their bowl of popcorn to the floor, making a huge mess.  Shane sat up, cursing like a sailor and rubbing his eye, and Brendon scrambled back away from him.  

 

“I’m so sorry,” he said in a rush.  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.  Did I hurt you?  I asked you to stop, why didn’t you-”

 

The glare Shane sent him shut him up in the middle of his sentence.  “You try and do a guy a fucking favor,” he grumbled.  “What the fuck is wrong with you?  You’re supposed to be into this shit!  You’re a fag, right?  Are you broken or something?”

 

Brendon’s eyes were welling up, and his head hurt, and he couldn’t breathe, and he was going to throw up and shake apart.  “Fuck you!” he yelled.  He grabbed his clothes off the floor and pulled them on as fast as he could, which wasn’t fast enough with Shane glaring at him from the floor.  He may have put his shirt on backwards, but that didn’t matter.  He grabbed his coat and slammed the door behind him, making the entire wall shake.

 

It was eerily peaceful outside, calm and cold until one of the other tenants yelled ‘stop slamming your goddamn doors!’  Then it was just cold.  Brendon bolted towards the stairs and down them just in case Shane decided to come outside and yell some more.  There were hot tears streaking down his face, which was already numb from the freezing wind.  He pulled out his phone and tried to remember if Zack was working that night or not.  The time read 10:10.  The bus had already left.  Brendon was shaking as he wiped miserably at his eyes.

 

He didn’t want to bother Zack, especially if he was at work, but there was some creepy looking woman down the sidewalk who was staring at him and he was cold and just wanted to go home.  He didn’t want Zack to hear him crying over the phone though.  Men don’t cry, a voice taunted him in his head and Brendon pressed the heels of his hands to the sides of his head and tried to get it to shut up.  

 

“Hello?” a different voice jostled him back to reality.  “Brendon?  Bren, you there dude?”

 

He didn’t even remember pressing call, but he held his phone up to his ear anyways and did his best to keep his voice from shaking.  His best wasn’t good enough, like always, and he knew he must have sounded like an idiot through the phone.

 

“Z-zack,” he forced the word out shut his eyes.  He glanced back at the creepy lady, who was suddenly gone.  He sniffed the air to try and catch her scent, but all he could smell was cold and his own fucked up emotions and garbage.  “Are you… are you at work?”

 

“I’m off tonight.  Why?  Did you miss the bus?”

 

“Yeah.  Yeah, I’m.  Fuck, I’m really sorry.”

 

“You sound upset, Bren, what’s the matter?” Zack asked.  He was so nice.  Brendon didn’t deserve him to be this nice.  “Did something happen?”

 

“Can you send someone to come get me?” Brendon said, his voice weak enough to feel blown away in the harsh winter winds.  He shivered.  He heard muffled voices on the other line and then Zack’s voice returned.    
  


“Jon is coming to get you.  Where are you right now?”

 

“I’m right at that address I gave you.  It’s really cold out here though.  I’m gonna wait in the 7-Eleven, okay?”  Brendon wiped at his eyes again.  His hands were shaking a bit less now, but he was starting to shiver, which totally just ruined everything.  He was nervous that the crazy lady might come back, or that Shane was going to come yell at him, or that he was going to get mugged.

 

“Stay inside and only talk to the cashier, okay Bren?  Jon’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Zack reassured him.  

 

“Thank you….”  He was honestly relieved that it was Jon coming to get him and not Zack.  He was an absolute mess; there was probably no way to mask that he’d been crying.  He didn’t want Zack to see him like that, and he could maybe at least try to tell Jon what had happened with Shane.  Jon would probably get it.  There was that whole mishap with trying to kiss Spencer on his birthday, if nothing else, that Brendon could try to relate this to.

 

Most of him was aching by the time he got into the convenience store.  His hands ached from cold cause he’d forgotten his gloves.  His head ached from hitting his head on the coffee table and also a throbbing behind his eyes.  His shoulder ached where it had slammed into the ground.  His hips ached from Shane’s hands.  His legs were frozen solid because his too tight jeans gave almost no protection from the cold.  His chest ached, too, and his throat ached in the way it always does from crying.

 

He didn’t talk to the cashier dude, who thankfully barely spared Brendon a glance before shrugging and going back to his Skins magazine.  Brendon had seen enough almost-naked women that night to last him the rest of his life, thank you very much.  He spent the entire wait trying very hard not to cry, and he almost succeeded by the time Jon pulled up by the front door.  Brendon recognized Zack’s car and climbed into the passenger seat.  He was fine, totally fine, until Jon looked at him with that uber concerned expression on his face, and Brendon ended up in tears again.

 

The good thing about Jon (there were many good things about Jon, let’s be real here) was that he was generous when it came to hugs.  He put the car into park and leaned over the middle console to wrap his arms around Brendon’s shoulders and tugged him close.  Brendon let himself be hugged and hid his face against Jon’s shoulder and failed at not crying.  Jon didn’t seem to mind though.  Once Brendon was calmed down enough to breathe and function like a sane person, Jon drove them to an empty parking lot on the safer side of town and listened as Brendon retold a shaky and slightly hysterical rendition of what happened.

 

There was more hugging when he’d finished, and Jon said, “There’s nothing wrong with not being ready for this stuff.  It doesn’t make you broken, and it doesn’t make you any less gay.  It took you forever to come to terms with your identity, right?  This will probably take a while too.  And that’s okay.”

 

Brendon wiped his eyes on the back of his hand and shrugged.  

 

“You’re only fifteen, dude.  You’re too young to have to deal with this shit.”  Brendon would have insisted that he wasn’t some little kid, but he was really confused and didn’t want to have to deal with all of this shit, so he let Jon reassure him and hug him again and drive him home.  He got some weird looks in the apartment, but Jon waved Zack off when he asked what was wrong.  Spencer gave him a hug, which was almost as great as a Jon hug.  Spencer was soft.  Zack ruffled his hair and wasn’t even mad that Brendon hadn’t been home by curfew.  He’d promised to text Sarah and tell her how it went with the ‘movie date,’ but he wasn’t really up for that yet.  He sent her tell you tomorrow, sweet dreams ;P instead before he curled up in bed and tried to get to sleep through his thoughts racing.

 

…

 

It was inevitable, really, but also one tradition that Jon was glad to see carried from Chicago to Colorado.  Birthdays meant a cake.  That was just a basic rule of everything.  Cake was full of sugar though, and when you pump enough sugar into puppies it always, 99.9% of the time, results in wrestling matches on the living room floor.  It was just a law of nature.  That’s how it had always worked with Jon’s older brothers, and that’s how it worked with Spencer and Brendon.  Even Ryan looked a bit happier to be there than he usually did.

 

Zack refused to join in, but that was partially because he could have kicked all of their asses at the same time without breaking a sweat and partially because he was old and boring.  Jon was not old and boring.  Not yet, anyways.  He was an adult, yes, but he was a young adult, and he planned to get full usage out of the ‘young’ part before he turned thirty.

 

He’d already beaten Brendon five times, but the youngest of them seemed to have an unlimited supply of energy that day and pounced on Jon immediately after being let up.  Every.  Single.  Time.  Jon wasn’t fifteen anymore.  He didn’t have this kind of motivation.  He was out of breath and tired, so he just pinned Brendon face down to the carpet again and sat on his back to hold him still for a while.  

 

“Spencer!” the kid called, wriggling and flailing pointlessly.  “Help meeee!”

 

“Yeah.  No.”  Spencer re-entered the room with what was probably the last piece of birthday cake and sat on the couch next to Zack.  

 

“Come on, Spence.  Don’t be a pussy,” Jon said with a smirk at the puppy, trying to taunt him into playing.  Wrestling with Brendon was boring.  Ryan cracked up, sputtering into the cup of coke he’d been drinking.  Spencer glared at him with a grin playing at his lips.

 

“He won’t,” Brendon said, trying to squirm out again.  “He’s too old.  He’s all mature now.  He has an office job.”  Brendon rolled his eyes and tried kicking.  Jon just had to lean forward slightly to avoid it.

 

“Yeah,” Jon agreed with Brendon.  “And you know how those white collar workers are.  He probably couldn’t win even if he wanted-”  Jon didn’t get a chance to finish that sentence because the taunts worked, and Spencer threw himself at Jon, taking him down hard on the floor.  A new rug burn stung on Jon’s shoulder, but he just smiled and threw himself back at Spencer.  They were evenly matched every other time they did this, and Jon could always pull the advantage that he actually knew how to use his wolf strength to win.  This time, however, that didn’t work.  Spencer wasn’t pinned as easily as he used to be.  He was faster now, and Jon spent the entire time trying to evade and duck out of Spencer’s holds.  He pulled out his extra strength in a last ditch burst of energy, but Spencer met him equally and slammed Jon down hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

 

Jon tugged at his arms but couldn’t pull them free even though they were slick with sweat where they were squeezed under just one of Spencer’s hands.  Spencer had his other forearm pressing down against Jon’s throat but wasn’t pressing down.  He was using all of his body weight to pin Jon down to the nearly worn away carpet, which Jon realized really needed to be vacuumed.

 

He also realized that he was hard, but that wasn’t surprising.  It was slightly surprising that Spencer was hard too.  There wasn’t much he could do to hide it, since they were entirely pressed against each other.  Jon smirked up at Spencer and quirked an eyebrow. Spencer flushed red, from the tips of his ears all the way down past the collar of his t-shirt.  He let go of Jon instantly and sat back down on the couch, calm and collected.  

 

“I won,” he said simply.  “Suck it.”

 

Jon sat up and winked, just to watch Spencer’s blush turn him practically purple.  Their moment only lasted for a moment, though, before Brendon was tackling Ryan over sideways and spilling coke all over the carpet, which was thankfully as grey and dirty as it was old.  Spencer rolled his eyes and stood, going to the kitchen for a moment and returning with paper towels.  He nudged Jon out of the way and didn’t make eye contact as he sopped up the mess.

 

…

 

The dreams returned after that.  Jon figured that they would.  Under other circumstances, he would have used this opportunity to tease Spencer endlessly.  When he woke up in the middle of the night, though, he was a bit distracted by his own weird dreams.

 

“Well… damn…” he murmured under his breath.  He wiped the sweat off his forehead and looked over at Spencer, who was mumbling and shifting around in his sleep.  The room was musky with sweat and oxytocin, and it sat too heavy in Jon’s nose.  He got up and rearranged himself as he made his way to the bathroom.  The beginnings of a sunrise cast the apartment in dull yellow light, and Jon’s phone told him he had half an hour before he had to be up for work.  

 

Well, sleep wasn’t going to happen again anytime soon.  Jon closed the bathroom door behind him quietly and turned on the shower.  He turned the water up too hot like he always did and enjoyed how it felt burning against his shoulders and back.  He let his mind and his hand wander and decided that he was far too old to be waking up like this, and that it wasn’t going to happen again if he could help it.  He was going to the BMV after work that day to get his new driver’s license, and then he was going out.  There was a gay club about an hour away that Jon could go to.  He was pretty sure Zack had calmed down about his and Spencer’s adventures two weeks prior.  It would work.

 

Yeah, yeah definitely.  

 

…

 

Previously undisturbed snow crunched under heavy leather boots attached to heavy legs attached to heavy men holding heavy guns.  Everyone who was anyone knew that hunting out of season was only illegal if you got caught.  The noise of walking posed an extra challenge, but some men liked challenge.  They wouldn’t be trailing after big game if they didn’t.  The biggest game of all, their buddy Jeff had been saying at the cabin the night before, was werewolves.  Strong and fast like their favorite fur covered opponents, but cunning like a human.  Just enough evil mixed into the monsters to make the chase just as dangerous as it was fun.  Better than bears, Jeff had said, and this was the conversation running through every mind as they came across what looked like a dilapidated campsite.

 

The snow was trampled down with footprints, hidden under heavy enough cover of trees that it was nearly preserved from the newly fallen snow.  The thin layer of snow over the footprints combined with the amount that had fallen over the past week or so told them that whoever had been camping out here before hadn’t been gone long.

 

“Footprints,” Anderson said, crouching down with long, skinny legs to look closely and run his glove covered thumb over the packed snow.  “Men’s size nine or ten.  Tennis shoes.  The pattern isn’t extremely pronounced so I’m willing to bet they’re old.”

 

“What does it matter?” another asked.  He was younger, Jason’s nephew, who’d been hunting before but not on a trip like this.  

 

Anderson pinched a clump of hair between his fingers and held it up.

 

“Dog hair?” the young man asked.

 

“Wolf,” A stout man named Jason explained.  He emerged from the haphazard tarp tent and held out a long sleeved t-shirt with jagged holes ripped through the left sleeve, blood dried into the fabric.  “Between this and the paw prints scattered around here, I think we know what we’ve found.”

 

“Freshest footprints head off in that direction,” Anderson nodded his head to show.  “There’s a town not a mile off of here.  Either he’s on the run, or he’s found some place to stay.”

 

“These kind stick together,” Jason said.  “They know they’re stronger in packs and they take advantage of it.  It’s pathetic.”

 

“How many do you think there are here?” the nephew asked.  He pulled his face warmer down to scratch at the stubble on his chin.  “This town is small.  Don’t remember it showing up on the map.”

 

“Can’t be more than four or five,” Anderson said.  “Wolves are fleeing to the cities these days.  They wouldn’t be stupid enough to hang around somewhere like this.  There’s definitely nothing here too strong for us.”

 

“What are we waiting for then?” Jason tossed the ruined shirt down and smirked.  He pointed with his gun towards the retreating footprints.  “Let’s go get em.”

  
“Time to hunt, gentlemen,” Anderson agreed.

 

  
  
**Chapter 12**

 

“What’s the appeal to this?” Ryan asked for the third time since the idea had even been mentioned to him.He only tagged along because he had absolutely nothing else to do, and he could only spend so much time in that stupid apartment.

 

“It’s fun.Don’t be a lamer,” Brendon said.From what Ryan had figured out so far, Brendon was weird.He was the gayest kid Ryan had ever met, and he was always too loud or too quiet or too moody , and what was a fifteen year old, especially one like this kid, doing not living with their parents?How’d he gotten mixed up in all of this?He was such a little freak, and ‘little’ was an objective term here.He would be considered small next to anyone, including Ryan himself who had kind of peeked off at 5’8” as far as he could tell.

 

“Lamer?” Ryan asked skeptically.They weren’t even supposed to be in there.A sign on the tall gate clearly stated that the park was closed until March.It was January.Ryan opened his mouth to point that out, but the Brendon and Sarah were climbing the gate and throwing themselves over it, grinning back at him expectantly.Ryan rolled his eyes and followed after them.Was it breaking and entering, or trespassing?What was the difference?He wasn’t sure.

 

Now they were just wandering around the park, which was basically a death trap.Ryan’s feet slid on the ice and he windmilled a bit until he caught his balance.Sarah and Brendon wandered off.They were talking about something that Ryan caught phrases of on accident.As soon as he noticed what his ears were doing, he made them stop because he wasn’t like _them_ and he was in control and he didn’t let himself do that stuff.It was wrong.Unnatural.Sick. 

 

He climbed the wall of one of the larger ramps and stood at the edge for a moment, being careful to make sure he was on ice-free ground.He glanced over at where Sarah and Brendon were sitting on a bench before shrugging and sitting down himself.The entire ramp was coated in glassy ice.It looked smooth to the touch.Ryan let his legs dangle and scuffed the heel of his sneaker against the ice.It was slippery. 

 

Something childish overtook his brain for a moment, and he found himself smiling.The ramp would make a pretty good slide, he thought.He glanced at Brendon again and shrugged, deciding he didn’t care before pushing himself off the edge and sliding down the ten-foot ramp.  

 

The ice was just as slippery as it looked.It sent him rocketing up the opposite ramp and back down again.He came to a stop on the flat space between the two, grinning like a madman.

 

“See?” he heard Sarah say from across the small park.“I told you he’d like it here.”

 

“I didn’t think he _could_ smile,” Brendon added.Ryan raised an ungloved middle finger at them both and heard them laugh.He stared up at the sky, a slate of thick winter clouds painting everything grey and cold and threatening more snow.  

 

As if reading his mind, the sky broke open and started letting down huge puffy snowflakes that landed with wet plops against Ryan’s cheek.He smiled and wiped it off.

 

“What are you thinking?” Brendon flopped down on the ice next to him, slightly too close for the strangers that they were, but that was just another quirk with this kid he guessed.He didn’t move.  

 

“It doesn’t snow like this in Florida,” he said. 

 

“Is that where you’re from?” Brendon asked, looking at Ryan with raised eyebrows and big eyes.His cheeks were turning red, and both of their breaths were coming out in white puffs.

 

“Jacksonville,” Ryan said.He normally didn’t like telling people this, not since he’d left home at least, but it felt okay in that moment.He decided not to question it.“There if we saw any kind of snow school was cancelled for the day.”

 

Brendon huffed.“Lucky.School’s only cancelled here if there’s an ice storm.”

 

“And sometimes not even then,” Sarah added.The wind blew her dark hair like a curtain over her face, and she pushed it back under the beanie she was wearing.From the street came three consecutive honks that caught their attention, and both Ryan and Brendon sat up to see better.All Ryan saw was a rusty old car, but Brendon was frozen and tense next to him.He smelled….

 

No.He didn’t smell like anything, because Ryan was a _human_ and he couldn’t smell hormones and emotions in people.That was weird. Ryan was _normal_.Okay, no… but he was weird for normal reasons.Not werewolf reasons.

 

“That’s my ride,” Sarah said.She reached down and bumped her fist gently against the side of Brendon’s head.“I’ll smack some sense into him, okay?”

 

Brendon just shrugged.“Yeah, sure.”

 

“See you guys.Don’t freeze to death out here.”She waved goodbye as she trudged across the icy skatepark and scaled the fence to rejoin civilization.A burst of music erupted from the car when she yanked the door open and climbed inside.It was loud and messy and sounded kind of like it was recorded in someone’s basement- exactly Ryan’s style.

 

“Who’s that?” he asked.Brendon remained tense as he shrugged and stood up.  

 

“Let’s go,” he said.“We don’t want to be late to dinner.”Brendon was polite enough to wait for Ryan to get up before starting across the skatepark.He slipped on some ice, and Ryan grabbed his arm to steady him.He was surprised when Brendon jerked away like he’d been hit.Ryan just frowned in confusion and raised his hands like he was being arrested.  

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

Brendon might have been blushing, or it might have just been the cold.He started to say something, “Today’s just-” but then shook his head, laughing at himself, and shut up.

 

“Uh huh….” Ryan was obviously dealing with a crazy person here.He walked past Brendon and threw himself up over the fence, sneakers smacking hard against the pavement on the other side.His hands stung where they touched the frozen metal, and he shoved them deep in the pockets of the coat he was wearing, trying to find warmth where there wasn’t any.He was still wearing Zack’s coat, mostly because he didn’t own one for himself (he was from _Florida_ for fuck’s sake), but also because there was a reminder every time he went to leave the apartment: “Put a fucking coat on!”Either way, Zack hadn’t told him he couldn’t wear it.He’d get himself one eventually.If he stuck around that long, that was.

 

Brendon still wasn’t talking, or like, _moving_ at all. Ryan noticed when he ran straight into the kid’s back a while into the walk.“Dude, what the fu-” he began to ask, but then Brendon was flapping his hand and squinting around.Ryan looked around them.There was seriously nothing there, and it was fucking cold out.They were barely half a block from the apartment building.

 

He pushed past Brendon and headed for the apartment-- “Okay, whatever, man-” but Brendon grabbed his arm.

 

“Shhh!” Brendon repeated frantically.Ryan tripped on the uneven sidewalk when he was tugged back, and he was seriously a few seconds away from shoving the kid in a snow bank and going inside.

 

“ _What_?” he hissed.

 

“Don’t you _smell_ that?” 

 

This was ridiculous.Absolutely ridiculous.He yanked his arm free and shoved Brendon back.“No,” he snapped.“Because some of us aren’t-”

 

Something like fire ripped through his arm, and he gasped audibly as he jerked back, whipping around to see what the hell had hit him.God.God FUCK it hurt.He grabbed his upper arm with his other hand and squeezed.A hole was ripped clean through Zack’s coat and his own shirt underneath.What the fuck?

 

“You missed!” someone roared.They were right there.They’d come out of nowhere.Who the hell were these people?“How could you miss he was ten yards away!” 

 

He was about to demand what the hell was going on and which one of those motherfuckers had tried to rip his arm off, but then Brendon was dragging him along as he ran down the sidewalk.He was muttering under his breath, something about how he knew he smelled garlic in the air.Ryan had no idea what he was talking about until, in a moment of distraction, he let his weird senses take over and was instantly overwhelmed.Garlic.Garlic everywhere, and Brendon’s heart rate was rocketing out of control and they couldn’t run fast enough.

 

Hands grabbed them, holding tight to the front of Ryan’s coat and throwing Brendon easily to the ground.Ryan didn’t wait.He knew how these fights worked.When it’s four against one, you either fight like hell immediately or get beaten into the pavement.He kicked and swung, connecting with his captor a few good times before being slammed into the brick wall of the apartment building.His vision whited out, and if it weren’t for the forearm pressed to his throat, he probably would have crumpled.

 

“Don’t touch him!” Brendon was yelling from somewhere.Ryan wasn’t super aware of where everything was just then. “Don’t touch him!He’s just a human!” 

 

Just a human?Lying. Why was Brendon lying?Why would they think Ryan _wasn’t_ a human?What the hell was going on?

 

“We’ll see about that,” Ryan’s captor said, his voice low and gravely.The next thing Ryan knew, his shirt was being ripped down (which sucked.He only owned, like, three shirts) and something was being pressed to his skin.First it was cold, but then it was hot, too hot.He screamed and flailed.He was on fire.His skin was on fire.What was going on?

 

Ryan couldn’t remember anything hurting that bad in his entire life.Not broken bones or getting burnt in the kitchen or having strep throat or getting beaten up in that truck stop parking lot.This was fire, and it was ripping its way through his entire body, and he was shaking and probably still screaming and…

 

And then it was gone, and his legs were giving out underneath him.He ended up sinking down against the wall, and Spencer was right there, seemingly shifting under his skin.

 

“Don’t touch them!” he heard a voice roar, and it took a minute to place it as Spencer’s.Spencer never sounded like that before.The guy who’d been burning Ryan was now spread out on the sidewalk, and he wasn’t moving… wasn’t even shifting… or breathing….

 

“Don’t touch them!They’re _mine_!Don’t you dare hurt them!” 

 

Something glinting in the late afternoon sun caught Ryan’s attention, and before he could even think, he yelled, “Spencer! Watch out!”But then Spencer was gone.Spencer was gone and there was a wolf, a damned big werewolf, in his place, launching himself at the people who’d been hurting them, and Brendon was screaming, and Jon and Zack came sprinting out of the apartment building, and suddenly everything smelled like garlic and adrenaline and pain and blood.Jon was there, pulling Ryan to his feet.  

 

Zack was yelling, screaming, “Spencer stop!Come back, it’s over!” 

 

Wolf-Spencer didn’t seem to care, however.Zack disappeared too, and in his place was a wolf even larger than Ryan remembered, growling, grabbing Spencer by the neck and throwing him away from the men, growling until Spencer shrunk away from him, nose to the pavement and tail between his legs.

 

There was a loud crack accompanying a small man coming out of seemingly nowhere.Actual nowhere.It was Pete.Someone else was there with him, hurrying around the perimeter of the scene and throwing some kind of color in the air that hung like a net.Zack and Spencer shifted back to human.Brendon ran to Spencer, who was covered, absolutely painted, in blood from his face to his hands to his chest and neck.Ryan was going to throw up, or… everything was spinning really fast.Jon was talking, but Ryan couldn’t understand him.His chest was screaming at him where he’d been burnt, and his arm was on fire.He felt himself being manhandled, but wasn’t sure what was going on until his feet were off the ground.  

 

Somewhere that felt distant, he heard Zack’s voice saying, “Spence.Calm down, Spencer.It’s over.They’re dead.”After that, he didn’t remember the trip upstairs.

 

…

 

When he came to, Ryan was in the kitchen and his shirt was missing.He was in a chair and propped against the kitchen table.Something felt too tight on his arm, and his chest was all sticky.Everything was sore, and he still felt a burning throb everywhere.He groaned.

 

There was a bandage wrapped around his arm and another one taped to his chest up by his collar bone.His throat hurt, but more like a bruise and less like fire.His head was throbbing. 

 

“Here, drink this,” Zack said, pushing a cup of water into Ryan’s hands and pushing his hair back off his forehead.Ryan didn’t even have the energy to protest.He tried to remember how to form words, so he could say something like ‘Stop touching me’ or ‘Why is my skin on fire?’ or ‘What the fuck just happened?’Brendon was sitting on the kitchen table trying to push Jon away from him.

 

“Seriously, Jon, I’m _fine_.”

 

“You at least need some ice on these bruises, Bren…” Jon was saying.Ryan looked up when Spencer snuck into the room.He was silent, as if trying to take up as little space as possible.He was emitting a lot of heat, and his skin was pink like he’d rubbed it raw in the shower, all over his face, neck, arms, and chest.Everywhere that there had been blood.His hair was dripping.

 

“Hey Zack?” Spencer said a bit bashfully, “Could you help me with this?”He held up his arm which had a long tear down it.There was a smaller cut on his cheek, but both were flaming red and angry.

 

“Yeah, come here,” Zack pulled out a chair next to Ryan, and Spencer sank down in it.

 

“It’s not healing,” Spencer complained, poking at his arm until Zack batted his hand away.  

 

“It’s silver.It’s going to take a while.”  

 

Silver.God.Just like those old horror stories.Ryan couldn’t believe that this shit was his life now.He was a monster, and there were people who wanted to hurt him for it. But… Ryan frowned and rubbed at his temples.He had a headache.Someone had tried to hurt him, the way his mom had always talked about.She’d never known Ryan was on the other side of that story when she told it, though.When Ryan was little , he’d imagined vicious beasts.Criminals.Covered in rough fur matted with blood.The only thing he’d seen close to that was Spencer, but Spencer had been protecting him.Those people out there hadn’t been attacking someone who looked like Spencer when he was a wolf. They’d attacked kids.They’d attacked someone like _Brendon_ , who was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a monster.They attacked Ryan, who’d worked so hard to never hurt anyone.Not like that. 

 

The humans had been the monsters, and Spencer had only turned into _that_ to protect them.Ryan felt so confused.

 

Blinking himself out of his thoughts, Ryan realized that some time had passed and everyone was gone from the room except for Spencer.When his ears focused in to hear the shower running and Brendon talking on the phone, he didn’t bother trying to stop it.He felt kind of guilty about it, though. 

 

Spencer was messing around on the stove.He’d put a shirt on, but Ryan could still see the bandage peeking out from under his t-shirt sleeve.It stretched all the way to Spencer’s elbow.

 

“Are you okay?” Ryan found himself asking without thinking about it.

 

Spencer’s head snapped up, surprised.“What?” he asked.“Oh… yeah.I’m fine.Are you?”

 

Ryan shrugged.“I’m fine.”

 

“You got beat up pretty bad, and you kind of looked like you were in shock.” Spencer was grinning, teasing.Ryan scowled. 

 

“Yeah, well, after that show you put on, you can’t really blame me.”

 

Spencer cringed.“I really lost it down there, but… They shouldn’t have tried to hurt you and Brendon.”

 

“You’re really protective of him, huh?” Ryan noticed, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head to the side.

 

The glare Spencer sent him was vicious and defensive, walls going up everywhere.Ryan recognized that expression.He was kind of a master of it.

 

“Somebody needs to be,” he said.“He doesn’t deserve to have anyone else hurt him, but he doesn’t know how to stand up for himself.Someone has to.”

 

“What about me?” Ryan asked.“You defended me, too.What was that about?”

 

Spencer rolled his eyes.“That’s a stupid question.”

 

“I’m just trying to understand…” Ryan sighed, leaning forward and dropping his head into his hands.It was still pounding.

 

“Understand what?”

 

Ryan hesitated, but he knew that at this point he hadn’t found any real answers through just observing, and he wasn’t going to.If he really wanted to figure this out and stop torturing himself, he was going to have to actually talk through what was going on in his head.He’d been reading his bible almost to the point of excess, but it didn’t offer any answers the way it had when he’d been going through his big homosexual crisis, trying to figure out how he liked both boys and girls and whether or not that was okay.The bible talked about homosexuality, but it also talked about forgiveness and love.The bible didn’t talk about werewolves.

 

“You’re a monster…” he started slowly, and to Spencer’s credit, the elder seemed unphased.His face remained open as he leaned back against the counter to listen.“You’re supposed to be damned.But… you weren’t the one who tried to hurt me.They were.I don’t get it.I don’t get any of this.And… I don’t have control of anything anymore. Not of how I survive or where I live or having fucking _strangers_ attack me in the street or this stuff that my body does without me even thinking about it…I just… I’ve heard so many stories, y’know?”

 

 He looked up, then back down again.He couldn’t have this conversation if he had to make eye contact while doing it.“I left because I didn’t want to hurt anybody… You have no idea what it’s like to be this scared of yourself….”

 

Spencer’s laugh was dry and humorless as he turned the flame down on whatever he was cooking on the stove.  

 

“You think that I’m not scared of myself?” he asked.“Dude, I’m fucking terrified.You’re scared of hurting people, but I _have_ hurt people.I _bit Brendon_.I’ve blacked out and attacked everyone in the pack.I just killed four people!”Ryan could hear Spencer’s heart beat pounding too fast in his chest .He took a breath and closed his eyes for a second. When he picked his head back up, Spencer looked a lot older than he usually did.

 

“The thing is, deep down I know that it’s not some monster.It’s _me_.It’s just this new part of me that I don’t know how to completely control yet.It’s like a two year old throwing a tantrum, y ’ know?But just because I can do bad shit, doesn’t mean that I am bad.I’m still me.Just like you’re still yourself.Werewolf or not , dude.”

 

Ryan didn’t say anything.He didn’t know what to say.After a long, drawn out moment, Spencer sighed.

 

“Dinner’s done,” he said.“Zack’s downstairs talking to Pete.Can you go get him?”

 

Ryan stood , but then paused.Outside there could be freaks with shotguns and knives and silver crucifixes.After earlier, he knew for a fact that he wasn’t strong enough to fight them.Now he wasn’t even sure if he had the energy to run away.

 

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice shook him from his thoughts.“Pete and Zack are down there,” he said.“Those are two of the strongest people in town.Nothing can touch you if you’re around them.”

 

Ryan nodded, scrubbing his hair back and silently chastising himself for being so scared.He was fine.He was tough.He’d been homeless for months.He wasn’t scared of the sidewalk.  

 

It was a short jog down the stairs to the front door.The elevators in this apartment building were always out of order, but even when they were fixed, they were shaky and grimy and it just wasn’t worth it to try.Even when it hurt every time he jostled his arm, it was still better than riding down five stories in that claustrophobic metal death trap. 

 

He didn’t see Zack immediately when he went out the front door.He did notice that the sidewalk, which had been a crime scene before, was sparkling now.Not a piece of gravel or a snowflake was out of place.Not a single drop of blood.He scanned the area and eventually spotted two men, one significantly larger than the other, standing in the parking lot at the side of the building, talking.Ryan made his way over there slowly, and he kept his distance to give them privacy.Zack noticed him and raised a hand in recognition.

 

While the adults finished talking, Ryan looked idly around the parking lot.There was a car which Ryan was pretty sure he recognized as the car that Zack had been driving when he picked him up from the police station.He couldn’t be entirely sure though.Man, he wished he had Zack’s coat out there, but it had a significant amount of blood on it.The sun had officially set, and it was freezing outside.He still wasn’t wearing a shirt.Ryan wrapped his arms around himself and rocked on the heels of his feet to keep warm.

 

The car he was examining had two bumper stickers on the back of it.The first was a generic “My kid is an honor roll student” sticker.Ryan reached down to brush some snow away so he could see the second one, which read “My kid skateboards better than your honors student.”Ryan couldn’t help it.He laughed out loud.

 

It was at that moment that there was a loud ‘crack’ that meant Pete had left, and Zack came wandering over to him.  

 

“Hey,” he said, then frowned.“Where the hell is your coat?Let’s get you back inside.Running around in the snow half naked.Jesus, kid.”

 

Ryan pointed at the stickers on the car.“What’s with that?” he asked.  

 

Zack rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.“Brendon and Spencer thought they were being funny.That’s what they got me for Christmas.”

 

“Is that how you think of them though?” Ryan asked.“Your kids?”He was still trying to figure out how everything here lined up with everything he’d heard about as a kid.  

 

Zack shrugged.“We’re family.In times like these, you learn to look out for each other.They’re my boys . ” He frowned and looked Ryan over.“And you’re going to freeze to death.Inside.Now.”

 

Ryan let himself be herded back into the apartment building.He wasn’t ready to go back upstairs yet, so he paused, and Zack let him.He raised an eyebrow and waited patiently. 

 

“Is that why you’ve taken care of me like that?” he asked eventually.Trying to find the words for this conversation was hard, just like the last one.His throat felt too tight, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the bruises or just from choking on words.  

 

“Something tells me that’s not the real question you want to ask.”

 

Ryan bit his lip and stared at the floor for a few seconds.“I just…. I don’t think I can keep going on my own…Especially not after seeing that, and I…. I don’t have anywhere else to stay.I can’t go back home, but I don’t want to be too forward ‘cause you obviously have a lot on your plate…”

 

Ryan’s speech was halted by Zack putting a hand on his shoulder.“Pup, the only thing keeping you from joining the pack is yourself.You go ahead and take your time, but when you figure it out, just let me know.” 

 

 Zack turned to go upstairs and Ryan felt something practically jumping off of his tongue.It was an option now, and these people were who he thought they were, not who he’d been told they were supposed to be.If it was that easy, he couldn’t let himself be stubborn any longer.

 

“Wait, Zack!” he said.Zack turned right as he got to the door to the stairwell and raised an eyebrow.“I, uhm…I want to join the pack,” he said.The words felt like a wind being pressed out of him.Zack smiled.

 

“Come on, then.Upstairs.We can talk more about it in the morning, but for now we have to tell Spencer the good news.”Zack pulled open the door and headed up the stairs and Ryan ran to catch up with him.  

 

“What’s the good news?” he asked.

 

“That he’s definitely not going rogue.”Ryan wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but he had a feeling they’d explain it to him later.Zack looked pleased, anyways.“He’s turning into an alpha.”


End file.
